Back in Black
by Rorschach's Blot
Summary: An omake file for Make a Wish think of it as a sequel of sorts . . .
1. A Black Haloween

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter . . . it should probably be mentioned that I don't own the big white house in the District of Columbia either . . . just saying that to avoid any confusion . . .

AN: This is an Omake file, little snips of Harry's life after the events of 'Make a Wish.' It doesn't really have much continuity but you can consider it all part of the main story if you wish. The other Sequel(s) are on the way.

* * *

A Black Halloween

* * *

Three months to Halloween . . .

"Gather round," Giles commanded. "I have a very important piece of information to impart."

"What is it G-man?" Xander asked with a smirk, "you finally going to admit that cricket isn't a sport?"

"I most certainly am not," Giles said with a the dignity he could muster. "My contacts have informed me that a man named Mr. Black has surfaced. Distinguishing features include the fact that you will be unable to remember any distinguishing features. He seems to favor dark clothing."

"So what's the big deal?" Buffy asked with a shrug, "he comes here I'll slay him. Just like I do to every other big bad that decides to surface in this berg."

"You most certainly will not," Giles said in horror. "For one thing Mr. Black is a great hero and for another . . ."

"For another?" Willow prompted.

"For another . . ." Giles's voice was horse. "For another, Mr. Black is one of the most dangerous beings on earth. It is quite possible that you would not survive attacking him unless he could be persuaded to see the humor in the situation."

The group went silent as they contemplated their mentor's words.

Halloween, several hours before nightfall . . .

Xander stood and stared at the rack in the costume shop, lamenting the state of his finances. Before him was an idea, something that would make him the most deadly thing to walk the streets of Sunnyhell . . . well, a representation of him anyway.

"May I help you?" The dry voice shocked Xander out of his daze.

"Hwa?" the boy jumped in surprise. "No . . . I mean, could you show me where you have the toy guns?"

"I could," the man allowed. "But why don't you tell me what fascinated you about that black outfit?"

"Just thinking about what I could do with it," Xander replied.

"Really?" The man sounded interested. "Forgive me, my name is Ethan Mr?"

"Just call me Xander," the boy replied. "I had an idea . . . but I can't afford to make it a reality so I guess it doesn't matter.."

"Nonsense," Ethan dismissed Xander's concerns. "The clothing you are looking at was supposed to be part of the uniform for some sort of soldier or policeman, but it is useless without any of the adornments so you may have it. Was there anything else you had your eye on?"

"A couple things," Xander agreed. "Why?"

"Because this corner of the store is reserved for items that have lost their context," Ethan explained. "You may have them if you like."

"What's the catch?" Xander asked wearily.

"The catch is that I avoid paying the trash man to take them away," Ethan replied. "It also allows me to avoid throwing them out. My mother would have never let me hear the end of it if she were alive to find out."

"Thanks," Xander said simply. "I . . ."

"No need to thank me," Ethan interrupted with a grin. "As I've explained, you are doing me as much a service by taking them as I am by providing them to you."

Xander spent several minutes gathering an assortment of items before taking them up to the cash register.

"I must admit," Ethan said as he poked through Xander's pile of items. "I can think of no way that you could combine these items into a working costume."

"Why don't I stop by tomorrow?" Xander suggested, "to tell you what I dressed as. It's no fun to just tell you."

"I agree," Ethan said quickly. "Tomorrow then."

Xander passed the next few hours modifying a few of the items to suit his costume and in what seemed like no time at all, he was standing in front of the Summers house.

"Hello Xander," Joyce said as she answered the door.

"Good evening," Xander replied without emotion. "I am here to meet with Elizabeth and Willow, are they available?"

"They'll be down in a few minutes," Joyce replied. "Who are you dressed as?"

"No one important," Xander replied with a small smile. "Just a man on vacation."

"I . . . see," Joyce frowned. "I guess that's more original then . . ." Joyce cut off as she noticed her daughter descending the stairs.

"Buffy . . ." Xander froze, that was not what his character would do. "Ahem, I mean you made an excellent choice Elizabeth."

"Thank you," Buffy accepted the compliment with an odd look on her face. "But wait until you see what Willow dressed as."

"Casper is right behind you Elizabeth," Xander replied. "And I have to say that of all the ghosts I've met, she is one of the more . . . memorable."

"Xaaaaander," Willow said with a blush. "Who are you dressed as?"

"As I told Joyce," Xander said. "I am no one of importance, just a man on vacation."

"Ok," Willow said with a frown. There was something about Xander's description that tickled the edge of her memory . . . ah well, it couldn't be important could it?

"If we are all quite finished," Xander spoke calmly. "Then I would suggest that we go to the school."

The group walked to the school and picked up their charges for the night.

"Hello children," Xander's face was impassive as he spoke. "I will be your caretaker for the night, I would suggest that you look as sad and lonely as you can. If you do then I think that you will find it an effective tactic. Another possible tactic is to say that you were missed, however I would not suggest using that tactic unless the potential reward was worth the risk."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry took a slow look around, something had brought him to this town beset by monsters and he was going to find out what . . . and then kill it.

"Xander," a shout interrupted the man's musings. "Thank god I've found you, something terrible has happened."

"Indeed it has," Harry agreed. "You have died and become a spirit."

"Stop kidding around," Willow snapped. "You . . . you've turned into your costume haven't you?"

"Hmmmm." Harry gave himself a quick examination. "It appears that I'm inhabiting someone else's body . . . if you will excuse me, I am going to follow the trail of magic back to its source."

Willow watched as her best friend . . . no the thing in her best friend's body walked off into the night. "What am I gonna do now?" The red head asked herself. A scream in the distance answered her question and gave her a course of action to pursue. "BUFFY."

"Back away from me harlot," Buffy commanded. Her fear disappearing under the rage she felt at being addressed in so familiar a manner by a common prostitute.

"Come with me," Willow said quickly. "I'll take you someplace safe."

"Very well," Buffy agreed reluctantly. "But be warned, if this is a trick then I shall have you soundly thrashed."

"Why did she have to read that stupid romance," Willow lamented to herself.

IIIIIIIIII

Giles looked up as two of his charges entered his inner sanctum. "Is there a reason you decided to return early?"

"I don't like your tone," Buffy said with a glare.

"Definitely regret loaning her that book," Willow muttered. "Everyone's turned into their costume, Buffy became her image of a noblewoman and Xander became some sort of traveler."

"Traveler?" Giles asked.

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "He was dressed in black and he said he was on vacation."

"What?" Giles went cold, "what exactly did he say?"

"He said he was just a guy on vacation," Willow replied.

"Good Lord . . ."

IIIIIIIIII

"Hello?" Ethan called out, he had the strangest feeling that there was something in the room with him.

"Hello," Harry replied. "There's something I'd like to speak with you about."

"Oh?" Ethan said nervously, "and who might you be?"

"Mr. Black," Harry whispered. "And I'm not happy about the fact that you've called me here."

"Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement?" Ethan suggested.

Giles burst into the shop fifteen minutes later and found his old friend Ethan cooling in front of a broken statue of the god Janus.

"Of all the people you had to annoy," Giles said slowly. "You had to annoy HIM . . . "

IIIIIIIIII

All was quiet on the hellmouth for the next week as no one wanted to be the one to find out if the boy that hung out around the slayer retained any piece of the one that had possessed him.

A hush fell over Willy's as a man dressed in black seemed to appear at the bar. "Beer."

"Um . . ." Willy shuddered, "yes Mister?"

"Black," Harry said coldly.

"Right away sir," Willy said quickly. "The best in the house."

The bar was silent as Harry took his first sip, "you know anything about a boy hanging around the slayer? May be calling himself Alexander or possibly Michael."

"Yes sir," Willy replied. "What would you like to know about him?"

"Just wanted to make sure I had the right town," Harry replied. "I heard that the little bastard was using my identity again."

"Again?" Willy squeaked.

"Yes again," Harry agreed. "He likes to play powerless to the point that he'll occasionally fake his own death. He only shows what's he's capable of when he thinks he can pin everything on me, I had nothing to do with the burning of Rome but I still get all the blame."

"Um . . ."

"Doesn't even arrange . . . ah to hell with it, you're not interested in my family troubles." Harry said with a smirk, "I'll be seeing you around."

"Family troubles?" Willy asked nervously.

"My idiot brother," Harry explained. "You said he was calling himself Alexander again."

"Alexander?" Willy managed to say before falling to the ground.

"Yes Alexander," Harry agreed. "Let's see how the little punk digs him out of this one."

Harry managed to hold his laughter until he was several blocks away from the demon bar.

"Well?" Xander asked.

"They fell for it," Harry replied.

"Can't believe it worked," Xander said in shock.

"They think you're my brother," Harry explained. "One who likes to pretend to be a powerless mortal. Have fun with it and watch out for fledglings."

"Thanks," Xander replied. "So I'll be seeing you this vacation?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "You've got the ability to do magic and there isn't a better place then my Island to learn how to use it. Bit of temporal manipulation and some quick modifications and Mr. Black's brother will be ready to come home and raise hell."

"Later Harry," Xander shook his new . . . brother's hand.

"Goodbye Xander," Harry replied.

AN: It is unfortunate, but I do not know enough about Buffy to consider continuing this. If someone wishes to take it up then they may have it with my blessings and a wish of good luck. Got the idea for this one from my group, someone made a challenge, there was a very good reply and I got this idea that I didn't write for a while. UPDATE: Someone has picked this story up and I look forward to seeing what they do with it.

* * *

Can't remember if I posted this, if I did then here it is again. If I didn't then enjoy.

The Black Patronus

A large crowd of students shivered in fear as they ran through the streets of Hogsmeade, fleeing one of a large group of Dementors that had somehow escaped destruction or subjugation in the last war.

"Run," one of them shouted to a young fourth year that had calmly drawn her wand and stepped into the middle of the street. "We've got to find the professors."

Ignoring the crowd's advice, the young witch took a stance and paused for dramatic effect.

"Expecto Patronum," the young girl cast calmly.

The panicking crowds paused to stare in shock at the silvery figure that emerged from the young witch's wand, the figure paused for a second before walking towards the now cowering Dementors with a look of annoyance on his silvery face.

The Dementors seemed torn between wanting to flee and standing their ground, and in the short time that it took for the silvery figure to reach them two of the Dementors had fallen to the ground and appeared to be sobbing in fear.

Finally reaching the Dementors, the silvery figure grabbed the lead Dementor and felled the creature with one well placed punch. Smiling evilly, the silvery figure rolled up his sleeves and began laying waste to Azkaban's guards.

"Who the hell is that?" A random man asked the young witch, "and why is your Patronus a human?"

"Death eaters attacked my family a few years ago," the young witch answered calmly. "My parents tried to defend us, but they were not skilled enough to fight them off."

"What happened?" The random man asked, engrossed in the girl's story.

"A man appeared," the young witch's eyes were shining. "The death eaters tried to curse him, but their best charms never seemed to hit. The man muttered something about how impossible it was to get some time off and that now it was being ruined, then . . . then he pulled out a small wand and muttered a charm."

"Then?"

"Then an anvil fell on the group of death eaters, crushing several of them." The young witch smiled at the memory. "One of the wounded death eaters screamed at the man, demanding to know his identity, and nearly fainted in shock when he heard the answer."

"What happened next?"

"Ghkhkhkhkhkhkhkhmrgl"

The two looked up at the odd noise and saw the silvery figure pummeling one of the Dementors with what appeared to be the creature's own leg.

"Where was I," the girl paused. "Oh yes, the death eaters surrendered their wands and begged for mercy, I also believe that several of them lost bladder control. After that the man stunned the death eaters and walked away, I . . . I never saw him again."

"What was his name?" The random wizard asked, possessed by a urgent need to know.

"Mr. Black," the witch smirked. "They say that a Patronus charm is a representation of all one's positive thoughts in the form of the creature, a guardian spirit if you will."

"And?"

"And nothing makes me feel safer than the thought that Mr. Black is in the world," the young witch replied with a shrug. "No one that hasn't seen him in action can possibly imagine how . . . I guess that it's hard to explain but the result is that I have one of the strongest Patronus in history, in a form that even Dementors know to fear."

"My god," the man stared in shock. "You don't suppose?"

"I don't suppose what?"

"You don't suppose that your Patronus might actually be Mr. Black?" The man's eyes widened, "we know that he can't be human."

"I don't know," the girl shrugged. "The consensus has been that since a Patronus is based on emotion and belief, that maybe it's powerful because of the power that I know is possessed by Mr. Black."

"That your belief that Mr. Black would be able to tear through a group of Dementors is somehow powering your charm and making it more capable?" The man shrugged, "that could also be correct. I don't suppose you'd be willing to allow it to be studied some more?"

"I don't mind." The girl ducked to avoid a particularly large chunk of Dementor. "Give me your card and I'll get back to you."

OMAKE: Belief

Harry awoke in a dark and formless void, the last thing he remembered he was drifting off to sleep and now he had woken up somewhere strange.

"Where am I?" Harry asked.

"NOWHERE," a dark raspy voice replied. "OR POSSIBLY IN NOTHINGNESS, IT'S REALLY HARD TO EXPLAIN."

"Who're . . . nice scythe," Harry said in admiration.

"THANK YOU," a dark figure in black robes replied. "I'VE ALSO ADMIRED YOURS, LOOKS LIKE IT HAS A VERY COMFORTABLE HANDLE."

"I'm dead then?" Harry asked the chap in the dark robes and menacing scythe.

"NO," the figure replied. "YOU ARE NOT DEAD."

"Angry about the fact that people think I'm you?" Harry said after a moment of thought, "I am sorry about that. Things just have a way of spiraling out of control whenever I'm around. People take the most innocent comments and . . . well, you get the picture."

"I AM NOT ANGRY," the dark figure replied. "IN FACT, I FOUND THE WHOLE THING TO BE QUITE DROLL."

"Well good then," Harry said slowly. "Then may I ask why I'm here?"

"I NEEDED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING," the figure replied.

"Oh?"

"YES," the figure agreed. "BELIEF IS A POWERFUL THING, PERHAPS THE MOST POWERFUL FORCE IN THE WORLD."

"Really?" Harry said in intrest, "Dumbledore's always maintained that the most powerful force was Love."

"THEY CAN BE RELATED," the figure allowed. "MANY PEOPLE BELIEVE THAT MR. BLACK IS A PHYSICAL EMBODIMENT OF DEATH, SO MUCH BELIEF FOCUSED ON ONE THING IS BOUND TO HAVE AN EFFECT."

"Damn," Harry lamented. "As if my life wasn't complicated enough."

"YOU WONDERED WHY I BROUGHT YOU HERE? YOU WISHED TO KNOW WHY I CHOSE TO SPEAK WITH YOU?" Death seemed amused by the whole conversation, "IT WAS TO WELCOME YOU TO THE UNION. MEETINGS ARE HERE EVERY CENTURY OR TWO. AND I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO WISH YOU WELL."

"SQUEEK," a small rat in a grim robe agreed.

"So what exactly do I have to do?" Harry asked with a sigh.

"JUST CONTINUE AS YOU ARE," Death replied. "ONE OF US MAY ASK YOU TO FILL IN IF WE NEED TO TAKE SOME TIME OFF BUT OTHER THAN THAT, YOUR TIME IS YOUR OWN."


	2. Call the Horseman

Disclaimer: I'm half asleep right now, on the plus side I don't have to go to work for about fifteen hours.

* * *

Call the Horseman

* * *

"We don't stand a chance against Fred Fredburger the Really Bad," the young council member shouted. "We have to call for help."

"Leaving aside such things as the fact that I just don't feel right about fearing a man with such a name," another council member sneered. "Who do you suggest we call?"

"That's the beauty of it," the council member replied. "The spell will search out and find the being that fits our criteria and bring them here."

"An elegant solution," the other council member conceded. "I withdraw my objections . . . except the one about the name."

"I would like to raise an objection," an old man rose to his feet. "I do not think it right to draft a being into our war, we should not bring them here unless they agree to come of their own free will."

"There isn't time for that," the young member replied. "We must act now."

The general mummer of agreement seemed to support the young man's proclamation.

"Then on your heads be the consequence," the old man replied. "If none of you have the sense to realise that a being as powerful as you intend to summon might get a bit annoyed at being ripped from his world to fight our war then you deserve what happens to you."

"Any being picked up by my spell would be noble enough to see our need and help us," the young man retorted. "And I propose that we conduct the ceremony right now."

"I wash my hands of this," the old man stepped back. "And I would advise all of you to do the same."

"I agree," one of the other members said suddenly. "I will take no part in this foolishness."

A few moments of silence made it clear that the two dissenters were the only voices of sanity and the council began their ritual of summoning.

"So," the old man asked as they watched the younger council members conduct their foolishness. "Why did you decide not to help them?"

"My old arms master," the other man replied. "One of the finest men I ever knew and the only man that had the patience to teach me how to use a sword."

"I don't understand."

"He was also the most dangerous man I ever knew," the man continued. "Just the sort we need to deal with our problem and just the sort that would be willing to help us. I wondered what his reaction would have been if he was kidnapped and dragged off to help in a war that wasn't his."

"I see," the old man agreed. "It looks like things are coming to a head."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was annoyed, one moment he was walking down the halls of main Black Ink office and the next he was here . . . in front of a bunch of idiots in stupid robes . . . let's just say that he wasn't in a good mood.

"Good day," the head idiot called out. "You may be wondering why we brought you here."

"You brought me here huh?" Harry asked with a grin, "nice to know." And with that, Harry kicked the lead idiot in the groin as hard as he could.

IIIIIIIIII

"See that smile on his face," the old council man asked. "Maybe I was wrong to oppose this."

"You weren't," his companion said quickly. "My old arms master used to have the same smile when he was about to do something evil and sadistic, just watch."

The watched as the strange man kicked the lead idiot in the groin so hard that he raised two feet off the ground, they watched as he tore through the other council members like snot through a Kleenex, and they watched as he picked the leader off the foolishness up off the ground and proceeded to drown him in the sacred pool.

"Poor bastards," the old man said sadly. "I tried to warn them but they wouldn't listen."

"Don't feel too sorry," the other man said with a smile. "He's going easy on them."

"That's easy?"

"He's letting them live isn't he?"

"He's also coming over here," the old man cautioned. "Hello stranger . . . fancy meeting you here."  
"Hello," Harry replied. "Were you involved with the idiots that brought me here?"

"I am Elsamore and this is my colleague Lord Trask," the old man said nervously.

"Well?" Harry demanded.

"We are part of the same council but we both argued against it," Trask said quickly. "And refused to have any part of it."

"I see," Harry replied. "My name is Mr. Black . . . why did they decide to interrupt my day?"

"There is a great evil in the land," Elsamore began. "An evil that none have been able to stop."  
"And they want me to stop it," Harry finished.

"That would be nice," Trask agreed. "But I think I speak for the both of us when I say that we'd be just as happy if you let us live."

"Without doing to us what you did to the rest of the council," Elsamore added quickly. "It'd be nice to have the option of having more children in the future if the opportunity arises."

"What's in if for me?" Harry asked with a frown.  
"To not kill us or to go after Fred Fredburger the Really Bad," Elsamore asked.

"Fred Fredburger the Really Bad?" Harry shouted, "that's what he calls himself?"

"I'm afraid so," Trask agreed. "I think half the reason he went bad was because of what his mother decided to name him."

"Who can blame him," Harry said in shock. "There was this one guy . . . but he named himself that, man what a rough thing to get stuck with."

"Back to the original subject," Elsamore reluctantly brought the conversation back on track.

"Send me home now," Harry said flatly. "And I won't paint the room red with your blood, how's that sound?"  
"Strict but fair," Trask said quickly.

"I agree," Elsamore agreed. "But the only one that knows how to do that is currently face down in that pool."

Harry walked over to the pool and pulled the man out, "I know you're not dead yet but I can fix that if you don't tell me what I want to know."

"I keyed the spell to Fred Fredburger's life force," the man coughed. "You'll go home when he dies."

"Wrong answer," Harry said. "Want to try again?"  
"It was the only ritual I could find and we were desperate," the man shouted. "I'm sorry, I thought you'd be glad to help."  
"Any gladness I might have felt disappeared the second you decided to bring me here without asking," Harry retorted. Dropping the man, Harry turned back to Elsamore and Trask. "Show me the nearest library and get me copies of every book and bit of information you can find and I'll try to forget what I promised to do if you didn't send me home."

"Right away sir," Elsamore agreed.

"Just follow us," Trask agreed.

Harry spent the next two weeks copying every bit of magical knowledge he could find into a magically expanded book that he'd just happened to pick up before he came to this frigging world.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Trask said in greeting. "But have you given any thought to the Fred Fredburger situation?"

"No but I've given a bit of thought to getting a piece of pie," Harry retorted. "If you'll excuse me."

Trask's heart sunk as he watched Harry walk out of the room. "Damn," He muttered to himself. Trask walked out of the library and went off to meet his colleague.

"Well?" Elsmore demanded. "What did he say?"

"He said that he was going to get a piece of pie," Trask replied. "And then he walked out of the library."

"I see . . ." Elsmore began, "were you aware that Mr. Black has copied every bit of information in the library and in my own personal collection . . . along with the collections of every other council member and everyone else we could contact . . . along with every other book that any of us could find."

"Then it's only a matter of time before . . . " Trask trailed off.

"That's what I thought too," Elsmore agreed. "Until I got this message, it arrived just before you came in."  
"What does it say?" Trask demanded.

"Fred Fredburger the Really Bad suffered an unfortunate accident just after you spoke to Mr. Black," Elsmore said proudly. "He fell down the stairs in his fortress . . . three times, then he fell out a window into a river and down a waterfall . . . lucky for him he was rescued by a fishwife. She fed him and he choked to death on his meal . . . a fish pie."

"So . . ."

"Our problems are solved," Elsmore finished. "Happy day."

"Let's get on with the ritual to send Mr. Black home then," Trask suggested. "Without delay."

"I couldn't agree more," Elsmore agreed.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was walking down the street towards his favorite place to get a pie when he felt an odd sensation . . . "What the hell?" He shouted.

"What the hell what?" Henchgirl asked, "and how did you just appear in my shower like that?"

"I . . ." Harry got an eyeful and immediately slapped his hand over his eyes, "sorry about that. I was pulled to another dimension where I was drafted to fight an incompetent evil and I just got back."

"Ah," Henchgirl nodded. "So what you're saying is that I forgot to ward against traveling through parallel dimensions . . . thanks, pass the soap would you."

"Um . . . ok," Harry agreed. "I'll just be going then."  
"Don't leave on account of me," Henchgirl said absently. "So tell me about this dimension you went to."

"Ok . . ." Harry sat on a corner of the tub with his back to his friend. "It all started when . . ."

* * *

AN: This was all based on an idea on my group by David about Harry using the room of requirements to get help and I got the notion that powerful beings that can help would be annoyed at being ripped from whatever they were doing to help a bunch of kids.

* * *

Omake: Many years later . . .

"Sir," a young Auror knocked on the Head of Magical Law Enforcement's door. "We found him."

"Found who?" the chief looked up with an odd expression on his face.

"The dark lord," the Auror checked his notes. "Snodrad?"

"What happened?"

"He was sitting at his desk when we stormed in," the Auror licked his lips. "It looked like he took his wand and shoved it into the side of his own head . . . I've never seen anything like it."

"Write up that he annoyed the wrong man and file it in the black room," the chief nodded. "Looks like he found out about the bigger fish the hard way."

"I thought they said that he was just a myth?" The Auror blinked, "that they made up the stories about him to cover for Black Ink . . . he . . . someone like him can't be real."

"I was there when we went after Voldemort,' the Chief sighed. "All we found was dead minions and a note."

"A note?"

"It said," the Chief took a deep breath. "He annoyed me . . . see that you don't."

Omake because a new book came out . . . The Phule in Black

Due to a series of misfortunes involving the Professor, an odd device, and a fight over who got the last slice of pizza (and Harry still maintained that using an odd device to win an argument was cheating), Harry had once again been tossed out of his world and into another. Knowing that it would be some time the Professor got around to eating the last piece of pizza, which would cause him to have to endure an enraged Henchgirl's savage beating (and as a consequence have to recover before he could remember Harry's plight and set about finding ways to bring him home . . . again.) Harry had decided to join one of the local military organizations to pass the time . . . which was how he found himself standing in front of an imposing man in a black uniform.

"Afternoon," Harry said with a grin. "The Name's Mr. Black."

"Mister?"

"Chief Warrant Officer Black," Harry explained. "Call me Mister Black, Chief Black just sounds odd to me."

"Right," the man agreed with a grin. "And why did they feel the need to send you to my command? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to have you but I don't recall requesting an . . . what was it you did again?"

"I'm what you could call a problem solver," Harry replied. "And as for why they sent me . . . well to be honest, they probably sent me here hoping that I'd kill you." Harry explained quietly. "My last few commanders died in horrible accidents . . . I didn't have anything to do with it but rumor has it that I'm some sort of psycho killer . . . or that I'm bad luck."

"Ah, well I'm sure that we'll find a use for you." The man continued, "everyone has a place in Omega company."

"Thanks," Harry replied. "Good to know that. What was your name again?"

"Phule," the man replied. "But you can call me Major Jester."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said with a grin. "Hopefully you'll last longer then my last few commanders."

"If you don't mind my asking," Phule began.

"Ask away"

"Why haven't you been drummed out of the legion if they think you've been killing off your commanding officers?"

"I guess it would be because they don't want a scandal," Harry answered after a moment of thought. "My first commander was a serial killer that was hiding from the law, the second was a mob hit man and so on. It was easier for the brass to just pretend that nothing had happened and to transfer me to the next unit."

"I see, I'm sorry to hear that you've been shuffled from command to command." Phule said with a kind smile. "Several of the others have experienced the same sort of thing and they've found a home with the Omega mob."

"I don't mind," Harry said with a shrug. "I joined because I figured that the legion was the best way to see the galaxy, so far I've been right."

Omake by luinlothana

Thirteen-year-old Caroline Blake was going down the street in Sydney humming something happily. Suddenly a man jumped from around a corner and grabbed a pink purse she was holding. Before she could utter a word he started running away.

"Oh no" she sighed "Not now"

The man was already around the corner. Suddenly a lightning came out of a blue sky and hit him. He fell to the ground accidentally breaking a large bottle of acid that happened to be lying on the street. Before he could as much as moan a dozen of bricks fell on him from the roof of the nearby house.

"Excuse me, but some man stole my purse" the girl reported to two policemen "He went into that alley"

"He did, didn't he Carrie? Now let's go and see." They went into the alley only to see the body on the unfortunate thief with only one hand untouched. In this hand there was still a purse. "Cor, it's eight this month. Listen Carrie, could you tell your parents not to let you wonder alone so much. The reports started getting boring."

"Well, they are busy with Nellie, Bruce, Willy and Nat. And it's not like it's dangerous." She looked at her watch "I'm sorry but I have to go. My godfather promised to come and take me to the cinema. Se  
you next time."

"Well, at least this one is easier than the one who accidentally fell into aa barrel of honey, was run over by a truck, pressed by the tree and eaten by ants."

"True, if we hurry we will still have time to go for a drink after we're done with him. Do you think little Carrie has any more meetings with godfather this month?"

OMAKE by Celebwen Telcontar

The brown haired man sat in his transport, mulling over what was going on. The Telepath's Underground Railroad on Babylon 5 was crumbling now that Byron had performed his little Ghandi impersonation. So now why did the Corps want him to simply abandon Babylon 5, give money to the Underground Railroad and get back to Geneva as soon as his Omega Squadron could! It made no sense!

Bester would not obey. He had hunted far too long for these people! No one would make him look like a fool! Besides, the Corps was mother, the Corps was father.

Al, someone was trying to contact him.

What! This had better be good! he snapped back.

Don't continue to pursue the Underground Railroad! Black Ink. is helping them!

I'm not afraid of a specter, Bester growled into the comlink.

Mr. Bester, Black is still alive. No one can kill him.

He's just a faerie tale to tell to kids to get them to behave, like threatening to sell your kid to the baker down the way!

In that case, why is one of Mr. Black's descendants following every move you make?

One of Mr. Black's descendants? Who is this person?

Captain Susan Ivanova of the EAS Bucephalus. She has been following every move you make, Al. Besides, Jason Mitchell, one of our best Psi Cops besides yourself, has just turned up dead. He drowned in three inches of water in his shower. He was murdered by Mr. Black himself.

I won't back down, Bester snapped in reply.

#Really?# The new voice was chilling and cold. Bester froze. The voice had an unidentifiable accent to it, and seemed like it was the very epitome of death and destruction.

Who is this! Bester snarled.

#Mr. Black. Leave the Underground Railroad alone, Bester. You wouldn't want to have an... accident, would you? Poor Fiona and Matthew Dexter, the leaders of the Telepathic Resistance. They had such high hopes for their son. It's too bad that he was raised as a killer, and too bad that I have to kill him. Goodbye, Stephen Dexter, Alfred Bester.#

What the! How the Hell! You can't... Bester sputtered.

Bester sat back with a thud into his seat.

"Come about," he snapped to his Black Omega squadron.

"Sir?"

"We're going to help the telepaths. It's not too late to change..." Bester turned his ship, smiling for once and ready to turn over a new leaf in his life. He was now who he was meant to be, the son of the leaders of the Telepath Resistance. He nodded to the screen. Thank you, Mr. Black, he Sent to the enigmatic deathless assassin.

You're welcome, Stephen. Help them, for they are human too... a voice whispered in his brain. Bester smiled. He was finally coming home.


	3. A Black Dysk

  
Disclaimer: I am not good enough to do justice to what I tried to write, maybe some day but not today.

A Black Dysk

MAY I HAVE A MOMENT OF YOUR TIME MR. BLACK?

Harry glanced over at the scythe bearing figure, "sure what can I do for you?"

WOULD IT BE POSSIBLE TO TAKE OVER FOR ME FOR A FEW HOURS? I HAVE AN ERRAND THAT I WOULD LIKE TO DO.

"What about that granddaughter of yours?" Harry asked, "the one that usually subs for you?"

I AM TRYING TO ARRANGE A SURPRISE FOR HER. Death replied. AND ASKING HER WOULD RUIN THE SURPRISE.

"No problem," Harry agreed. "When do you want me to fill in?"  
AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, Death said. I AM AFRAID THAT I ONLY RECENTLY LEARNED WHAT I HAD TO DO.

"Just let me grab a few things and we can be on our way," Harry said quickly.

IIIIIIIIII

Susan's eyes narrowed as she saw something out of the corner of her eye and frowned deeply when her eyes verified her deepest fears. "I'd hoped that he'd have learned the first time," she said in disappointment as she set out towards the cloaked figure. "You."

"Something I can do for you?" Harry asked with a lazy grin.

"Where's your master?" Susan demanded.

"Master?" Harry rubbed his chin. "Don't think I've got one of those."

"My grandfather, where is he." Susan growled.

"Not sure what you're talking about," Harry said absently while checking his watch.

"Now listen here," Susan began with false calm.

"Excuse me," Harry pulled a small horse figurine out of his pocket. "I've got an appointment I've got to keep."

"That's not Binky," Susan gasped.

"No it's Mortis," Harry agreed. "Have a good day."

"But . . ."

"Why do I always meet the werd ones," Harry muttered to himself as he galloped off. "Why?" Dismissing his thoughts of self pity, Harry landed and walked into a convent alley.

"Give us your gold," a voice hissed from behind. "And your horse."

"Hmmm?" Harry glanced over his shoulder to look at the group of thugs, "maybe later."

"I don't think you understand the seriousness of the situation," the man said slowly, silently asking himself why did he always have to deal with the crazy ones?

"Supposing I give you what you want," Harry began. "What then?"  
"I won't lie to you," the man said with a nasty grin. "I don't have a licence, I'll have to cut you up so no one can give the guild my description."

"I see," Harry said in understanding. "Goodbye." Two rather . . . bloody minutes later, Harry put his scythe away and resumed his wait. "Hello," he called out to a passerby. "You spelled your hat wrong."

"Not in the face . . . wait, you're not the normal guy?" Rincewind said while still maintaining his readiness to flee.

"Afraid he's busy at the moment," Harry replied.

"So where's the danger?" Rincewind demanded. "Why isn't something attacking me?" His voice turned shrill.

"I'm afraid that's my fault," Harry said with an embarrassed chuckle. "You see I'm new to this and I accidentally eliminated the threat . . . sorry bout that."

"I . . ."

"I'll just be going then shall I?" Harry said to the stunned wizzard. "Bye then." Harry mounted his horse and headed for the hills. "One more thing to do," Harry muttered to himself.

Harry's next and last stop was a small village in a tiny out of the way country. He got off his mount and slipped unnoticed into the nearest house.

"It's his time then?" An old woman asked without looking up from her patient.

"Afraid so," Harry agreed.

"Subbing for the other one then?"

"Just for a few hours," Harry whispered.

"Get on with it then," the old woman commanded.

"May you find peace in the next world," Harry said quietly. "It's done."

"Be on your way then," the old woman said without bothering to look up.

Harry slipped out of the house as silently as he had entered and headed towards his horse.

THANK YOU, Death said as he rode down on Mortis's twin.

"What'd you get her?" Harry asked.

A CARD WITH A HUMOROUS SAYING ABOUT THE AGING PROCESS AND SOME FLOWERS.

"Mind if I make a suggestion?" Harry asked.

WHAT IS IT?

"Just something else you might want to give," Harry said with a grin. "Have you considered giving her any . . ."

IIIIIIIIII

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUSAN.

"Birthday?" Susan asked in shock. "Congratulations on being one step closer to death," Susan read the card. "

THE SHOPKEEPER ASSURED ME THAT IT WAS QUITE HUMOROUS, Death added helpfully.

IIIIIIIIII

"I'm back," Harry called out.

"Welcome back," Henchgirl said with a big grin. "And you brought a cute little kitty, hello little kitty."

"Kitty?" Harry turned to regard the ugliest mass of scar tissue shaped like a cat that he'd ever seen. "Must have stowed away with me, "better take him back."

"Could you just wait a few days?" Henchgirl begged. "He's so cute that I just have to cuddle with him."

"Just a few days," Harry reluctantly agreed. "Then he goes home."

"Yay," Henchgirl cheered. Little did Harry know the magnitude of his latest error. "Where do you think I could find some milk for him?"

"There should be some on the front step," Harry replied. "I worked out a deal with a milk man when I was gone."

"I'll go look then."

IIIIIIIIII

"Is the monster gone?" The Doctor demanded. "Did you take it back to hell?"

"I took him home," Harry demurred.

"It shouldn't have even been possible," the Doctor muttered to herself. "How'd he do it?"

"Do what?" Harry immediately cursed himself for asking.

"The Nundu's pregnant," the Doctor said flatly.

"Bu . . . how?"

"That thing you took back, Henchgirl's widdle kitty did it." The Doctor growled. "I didn't even notice till after you were gone. Bad enough it wrecks my lab but to saddle me with having to take care of a pregnant Nundu."

"But how?" Harry said in confusion, "I didn't think it was possible for a house cat to breed with a Nundu."

"Apparently no cat has ever tried," the Doctor said dryly. "Though I still maintain that the little bugger's a demon."

AN: This is my rather pathetic attempt to play in the private preserve of one of the greats, maybe some day I can do it justice but not today.

* * *

Omake: Skeletons

"What's this potion do again?" Harry demanded.

"It's an invisibility potion, it makes you invisible." Henchgirl replied with a perky smile. "Now drink."

"Just so you understand," Harry sighed. "This is under protest."

"Drink," Henchgirl repeated. "Chug chug chug," she cheered as Harry downed the potion.

"Is it working?" Harry was afraid to look down at himself.

"Um . . . sort of," Henchgirl said nervously. "Why don't I just step out for a bit."

"What did you do?" Harry demanded. "Where's my skin?"

"It's still there," Henchgirl said with a smile. "It's just invisible."

"Why are my organs disappearing?"

"They're not disappearing," Henchgirl said with a huff. "They're just invisible."  
"Oh," Harry said in relief. "I suppose my bones are next . . . I said I suppose my bones are next."

"Doesn't look like it," Henchgirl said with a frown. "Maybe if I were to . . . hmmm."

"How long is this going to last?" Harry's skeleton demanded.

"No more then a couple days," Henchgirl said dismissively. "And you should eventually learn to control it."

"Control it?" Harry asked flatly."

"After a few months," Henchgirl agreed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to figure out how to brew another potion that will hide your bones."

"What am I supposed to do now?" Harry's skeleton whined.

"I'd put on a cloak and point at people," Henchgirl said after a moment of thought. "Maybe check my watch occasionally."

* * *

Omake: Mr. Black and the Demoness  
By meteoricshipyards

In a private chateau in the Swiss Alps a bell started ringing. The  
bell came from an alarm clock like object that was sitting on an end  
table next to a bed where a blanket covered two people. An arm  
appeared from under the blanket and started feeling around the end  
table. It found what it was looking for -- a small carbon-graphite  
stick. It pointed the stick at the other arm which had reached out  
from under the blankets, and suddenly a large mallet formed in the  
other hand. With uncanny precision, the mallet hit the alarm clock  
looking thing and flattened it. The mallet disappeared and two heads  
emerged from under the blanket.

"Vat eez it, Darlink?" asked a beautiful blond woman whose shoulders  
gave the impression that she wasn't wearing anything, which,  
coincidently, she wasn't.

"Nothing for you to worry about Katrina. Go back to bed, I'll be  
back with breakfast before you know it."

"Don't take too long, Meester Black."

"I won't. These things are usually cleared up pretty quickly." Mr.  
Black, wearing silk pajamas with snorkacks on them, got up and  
slipped into the bathroom to get changed. He returned to the  
bedroom, and cast a Reparo on the Dork-Lord Detector that the  
Professor had made for him. The alarm-clock like object's hands  
showed longitude and latitude rather than time.

Katrina looked like she was sleeping again. Harry sighed. It was  
always something. He had come to the Alps to learn to ski and come  
to a mutually beneficial arrangement with the young Russian woman.  
She would teach him to ski and he would help her break the curse that  
was upon her. He felt he was getting the better part of the deal.  
All he had to do was sleep with her and not have sex. Simple, for  
someone who could resist Veela magic. But the "cure" was spoiled by  
the alarm, so they'll have to try again that night.

He opened the door to the living room and looked at his other  
guests. How the heck had they found him? A whole flock of Veela  
were sleeping out there. The remains of last night's Monopoly game  
were still on the table. What was it with Veela and Monopoly?

He Apparated to the coordinates on the Dork Lord Detector, and found  
himself in a trailer park in upstate New York. He looked around, and  
quickly located the source of the magical emanations. He knocked on  
the door.

It was opened by a man in shabby robes, aiming a wand at him.

"What do you want? I'm very busy!"

"I noticed the magic here, and just wanted to make sure everything  
was OK."

"A wizard, eh? Come in. You're just in time. You can assist me.  
Yes, this will work out fine."

Harry entered the mobile home, and sat on the kitchen chair he was  
directed to. The wizard never lowered his wand. The table had been  
removed from the kitchen, and a pentagram was drawn on the linoleum  
floor. Harry couldn't help but notice it was rather sloppily done.  
As Harry sat down, chains appeared from the chair and wrapped around  
him. He sighed. This could get ugly.

The wizard turned back to the pentagram, read horrible sounding words  
from a book, lit a black candle, ran a bell, and finished with, "I  
summon you, She-Who-Must-Obey!"

The street lights in the trailer park went out, and the candle  
flickered, and there was something in the pentagram. It was six and  
a half feet high, with horns that extended another half foot above  
that. Two huge leathery, bat like wings were on it's back. The rest  
of it looked like a large, beautifully proportioned woman. It wore a  
tiny, light blue bikini that might not be legal at many beaches, it  
was so small.

"Success! You will help me take over the world! Start with that  
one!" the mad wizard cried, pointing at Harry.

The demoness looked at the figure and smiled. While, except for the  
horns, wings, and color -- obsidian black, a black that no flesh and  
blood creature could actually be -- she looked mostly human, her  
smile disabused anyone of that notion. Her teeth were long, pointed  
and sharp. The Dark Lord shuddered a little as he saw them. 'This  
is going to be messy,' he thought.

The demoness spoke with a heavy Brooklyn accent. "Hello, Mr. Black.  
How ya doin'?"

"Same as aways, it seems. I just can't seem to get a vacation in.  
New outfit?"

"Ya noticed! Yeah, I quit Hellie's. Da bums just don't tip there.  
I like waitressing, and all, but I could barely afford the rent. I  
got a job with Ma Bell now. I'm a switchboard operator. I get to  
disconnect people who are rude! Just yesterday, I cut off a long  
distance call from Dis."

Harry and the demoness laughed.

"I'm glad things are working out for you, She."

"Afder you helped me out that time, ain't no one messing wid me  
anymore. I just can't thank you enough."

"My pleasure, She."

The wizard had enough. "Don't talk him to death, kill him!"

The demoness looked at the little man and put her hands on her  
hips. "I don't think so, mister! Dis here is a friend o' mine!"

"But you are She-Who-Must-Obey!"

"Big deal! Strange names come into fashion for a few centuries, and  
my parents saddle me with this one. I hear the same thing happens  
wid you 'umans. You end up with names like 'Moonbeam' and 'John'  
until common sense takes over again. Doesn't help the kids, though.  
They get stuck wid the silly names for da rest of dere lives."

"AARRRGGG!" The wizard tried to point his wand at Harry but when his  
hand was outstretched he noticed that there was no wand in it.  
Harry, still sitting in the chair, but without chains on him, was  
holding it.

"You want me to take care of this bum, Mr. Black?" She asked.

"Thanks, She. That would be great."

"Come on mister. I think you'd make a nice snack for Cuddles. Don't  
be a stranger, Mr. Black!" She grabbed the wizard, and was gone  
before the little man could scream.

Harry shuddered a little. He had met Cuddles. Demon pets  
were . . . . Anyway, he would have just killed him. He left a note  
for the American Aurors, magically sent out a call to them, and  
Apparated away.

Today he was going to try snowboarding, right after he got Katrina  
and the rest of his guests breakfast.

* * *

Omake by Chris Hill

"Boy! Where are you Boy! You are needed!" screamed a being in blue armour.

A young boy across the street slaped his face, then went over to the  
screaming giant. "What do you want?"

"Boy, there is great danger. Not just to us, but to this entire town."  
stated the being.

"Skulker," Danny Fenton said, "I've faced Plasmius, I've faced Pariah,  
and I've faced a lot of others from the Ghost Zone. I've even faced an  
evil me! What could be worse than that?"

"Child, while we may battle, there is a secret that I've never told  
you. Indeed, you are worthy of learning the secret where Plasmius is  
not. We battle to prevent boredom! Do you think, as untrained as you  
are, you would really have a chance against all of us, or even me if I  
trully brought forth my abilities?" said Skulker.

"Yeah, that's why I always kick your butt!" scowled Danny.

Skulker took a second, and then began laughing out loud while leading  
Danny away from the more public areas. "Child, we exist just short of  
Forever! Do you not think that we would get bored after all that time?  
Besides, only a fool, such as Plasmius would want this world to be  
under an iron rule. I may accept his money, but his foolishness is his  
own destruction."

"What is it then?" Danny said a little numb.

"Child...Danny. There is a strong power approaching this town, one  
that we ghost fear more than Pariah. This being is named Black. He  
pretends to be human. A Wizard, if you will. By the laws he laughs at,  
all that happens in Amity Park should not occur, and everyones  
memories would be erased. There are more rumours about him than can be  
imagined. It is said that he is older than the Ancient spirits who  
trapped Pariah, that he is the First, but having a way to return to  
life at any time. It is said that his power is a million times greater  
than Pariah." Skulker said.

A stunned Danny replied, "What does he want here?"

"Danny, to answer your question, you need to ask, what does any  
immortal want? Truthfully, I think that he wants to see one ghost who  
named himself Voldemort to suffer for the pain he put some mortal  
through. He will probably want to use your portal. If he does, let  
him. Do not endanger yourself." Skulker warned.

"Besides, Voldemort is a whiney bint! I for one would be glad to hear  
his screams of torment, if I could get rid of his stupid comments. He  
does not deserve to be counted among the dead!"

"Wait, this guy is worse than the box ghost?"

"Danny, this guy drives other ghosts off by being a complete  
complaining, whiny, stupid entity. Of course we want to get rid of  
him."

"Wait! Hold on!" Danny said, not wanting anything to threaten his  
family, friends, or town, no matter the cost to himself, "There's got  
to be a way to prevent something bad from happening!"

Skulker rubbed his chin, "Danny, I know of no being that would  
challenge him, Evil being fear him, weather they are mortal, ghost, or  
demon, and yes, demons do exist. The best we could do is make an  
appeal to him and appease his sensibilities."

"So you'll help me protect the town?" Danny cautiously ventured.

A smirk greeted that question, "I have been authorized by all the  
ghost you have encountered to offer a truce, from now to a month after  
his attention is drawn elsewhere. You will not abandon the mortals,  
no matter what happens, we know this. It was predicted by everyone  
that knows you, and we respect this."

Skulker looked around to see if anyone, or anything, was listening.  
"Do me a favour, Ghost Child, do not let the mortals you associate  
with to know the truth of why I battle, or allow them to know the  
respect that I have for you, and that you have for me. It is better  
that they are cautious, and will protect themselves against those who  
are trully evil such as Pariah. It is a strength that they will need.  
One more thing..."

Here Skulker shouted hard enough to force Dannys hair to fly back, "DO  
NOT THINK THAT YOU SHOULD EVER LET UP IN BATTLE! We may be dealing  
with you lightly, but be assured, the battles will get harder."

"Why Skulker?" Danny said as his oftime foe was about to leave. "Why  
are you telling me this? Why are you...training me?"

"That is not my place to tell." Skulker replied, "Perhaps you should  
talk with Clockwork once more."

* * *

Sam was lying in her bed when a twelve year old ghost dashed into her room.

"Whereishe!whereishe!Dannyhastobehere!whereishe!" said ghost gibbled.

"Whoah! Slow down Dani. What's wrong?"

The young ghost girl caught herself and started to breath slowly, "Mr.  
Black is coming! He heard about Danny and got curious!"

Sam shook her head, "Who is Mr. Black?"

"Who is Mr. Black?!" the panicked ghost girl said, looking around the  
room for some of Sam's research material. Seeing one of the books  
that might explain things, she grabbed it and opened it up to a plate  
depicting a scary character. "This is who he is!"

Sam looked at the picture, and saw a black cloaked figure bearing a scythe.

---

A few days later, Days that had a worried Sam, Dani, and Jazz doing  
everything they could to follow Danny, much to his displeasure  
whenever he caught them at it, a stranger whistled his way into town.  
He did the usual things, such as go to a dinner for breakfast, see the  
sights, and catch the Amity Park Ghost Tour. A tourist through and  
through, although he was snickering badly at the 'Guys in White.'

Later that afternoon, he started to visit areas that normal people  
would not be allowed in. This pissed off the 'Guys in White', which  
prompted a personal visit by him to their headquarters. Nobody said  
what happened, but suddenly, the 'Guys in White' were all smiles,  
forced smiles, but smiles, as they were being audited by a person the  
man left behind.

This person, dressed in black, was going through every one of their  
receipts and disallowing so many of them, that the threat of  
diminished funding was becoming overwhelming.

"May I ask what it is that you are buying that takes up approximately  
a quarter of an 8 billion dollar budget?" the auditor without a  
recognizable face asked.

One of the two Guy's in White answered, "You will need to file form  
1007D in triplicate along with Information Request form 877A and  
Information Release form 9437B to get the necessary forms to file to  
receive that information."

The auditor was getting angry. So far, no matter what he needed, it  
seemed there was a form, that required a form, to get a form, to fill  
out a form to receive the original form in order to get the  
information. "Right. In that case, I'm going to have a billion  
dollars removed from your budget. It's obvious that it takes that  
amount of dead trees to get simple information."

The two agents looked at each other. "Detergent. It's for the  
detergent we need to keep our suits white as per department  
regulations."

"Now we're getting somewhere," the auditor said under his breath.  
"Almost 2 billion dollars for detergent for one hundred agents? What  
do you do to your suits, eat garbage with them on? I'll allow  
$250,000.00 for the year. That should get you dry cleaning everyday  
of the year for all of your people, which means that you've seriously  
overspent on just that department."

"Now, I've noticed that you've earmarked a budget of almost 250  
million to follow one Danny Fenton around. I also notice that you are  
using a lot of technology from Fentonworks that has not been paid for.  
I can only assume that this means the technology being used has been  
stollen. All this money, to try and find something to blame on a  
child, seems more to ensure that you do not have to pay the Fentons if  
they find out that you have stollen their technology. That budget  
will be slashed to one hundred dollars, and you will comply with  
federal regulations. Which means that you owe the Fentons ten times  
what it would have originally cost if you had just purchased the  
technology originally or obtained the rights to use it. You will be  
paying them as a purchase of the technology, and use only what they  
will allow you to. This means the Fentons must be brought in to audit  
all of your equipment." the auditor said as he tapped a copy of the  
Fenton Ghost Thermos.

The two agents winced. If truth be known, everything was based on the  
Fentons technology, and they had already made the kid mad at them  
several times in the past. It would not be pretty if he was the one  
to audit their equipment. "What if we set it up as a college fund for  
the kids?"

"Possible. I agree. In this case, your former target, Danny Fenton,  
will be the one to conduct the audit." He smilled at the obvious  
winces and clenched hands that the two agents in front of him made.  
It was so nice to catch them in wrong doing. A big part of the MoB  
was catching governments going overboard.

"Getting to that, you've listed Fenton and his friends as allies of  
this Danny Phantom. Since you are stopping this persecution, you will  
allow Phantom and his allies full governmental protection. This means  
no chasing him, hounding him, or going after him. In fact, I think he  
will make an excellent boss of your organization once I talk with the  
people back in Washington. In the meantime, I have contacted  
C.O.N.T.R.O.L. and have gotten their permission to have one of their  
best agents assigned here to help you determine what to do." Serves  
the idiots right. Going after the badd guys was ok, but going after  
the good guys? It was England all over again. Besides, Phantom was a  
ghost, and that meant that he was magical.

"Control?" the agent on the right opened his eyes wide, "Is this a  
joke? Control doesn't exist!"

"Strange of you to say that. Maxwell Smart, Agent 86 will be in  
charge of the Guy's in White until such a time as your budget and  
organization are fully reviewed with the President." The auditor  
smirked as he took a bite of the excellent strawberry shortcake that  
he had been served, "A word of caution. He is better than the cover  
story we made for him, although he does speak in all of those cliches  
that we used on the show."

The agent on the left winced, and then almost grovelled as he fought  
to keep his 8 billion dollar budget.

This was important! If they lost the Phantom case, then their budget  
would be reduced to a ridiculous ¼ billion dollars, especially if the  
Fenton's ripped apart their arsennal.

---

Harry was having a good time in Amity Park. It was a nice place, calm,  
peaceful, and nothing like the reputation made it out to be. "I guess  
the muggles sensationalize everything out of proportion to what's  
actually happening."

He had hoped to meet the local Ghost Hero, however, and congradulate  
him, possibly even get him to come and teach a few classes back at the  
island as he was the only one who could possibly teach others how to  
deal with beings like Peeves. Unfortunately, it would have to wait as  
he had to get back to what he needed to do. Can't let the bad guys  
think he was on a permanent vacation, despite how relaxing that  
sounded.

He'd have to come back every two weeks until he finally met Mr.  
Phantom. It was the only thing to do in this situation, and he was  
sure that they'd meet up if he kept to this schedule.

Besides, that dinner had some of the best coffee cake that he'd ever tasted!

End

* * *

Omake by luinlothana

After reading yest another piece of the Hunt and listening to the  
news at the same time I couldn't help but wonder how would Poland  
and Mr. Black mix. As some ideas jumped into my head and proved  
quite persistent I started to write omake playing with this idea.  
But it started getting too long and I started doubting that anybody  
but Poles could understand the references I gave so I stopped  
writing before it got unreadable. But since I wrote it anyway I  
decided to send it here (mostly in case someone here does know  
Poland well enough for it to make some sense). I hope you won't  
consider it spamming.

Things certainly can get stranger

„I still don't see why you wanted to come here, Mr. Black. I mean  
I'm not saying it's not a nice country…"

"hush, I have a feeling that it might be interesting. Now if you  
don't need me for anything… port me down."

Harry looked where he landed. He seemed to be in the middle of some  
field. But the magic in the air was so obvious that one could even  
taste it easily. The only thing around that wasn't a field seemed to  
be an old willow standing between the crops. Upon a closer look it  
appeared that someone was sitting inside. Without any further  
thought Harry approached the willow.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hello, haven't noticed you." a creature inside the willow  
replied

Harry pointedly looked around

"Really?"

"Well, I'm doing crosswords and wasn't really looking." the  
crossword fan admitted "I'm Rokita, by the way. A devil."

"A devil?"

"To be precise I'm a czort. Different qualifications and a bit  
different job profile."

Harry decided not to wonder about it too much. Stranger thing have  
happened after all. To him at least.

"A czort then? How interesting. I'm Mr. Black."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, master." Rokita grinned presenting  
quite uneven teeth

"Master? Where did that come from?"

"As I'm sure you know, czort department is generally responsible for  
chaos, mischief and impossible happenings."

Harry chose not to comment and just nodded

"Someone with your skills in those fields deserves no lesser title."

"I'd be glad if we sticked to Mr. Black though."

"Naturally, master." the czort grinned "This meeting deserves  
celebrating. Would you care for some fruit wine? Made it myself."

"Why not. So what are you doing in this willow?"

"Why, I'm working, of course." the czort produced two glasses from  
somewhere and filled them with liquid from a brown bottle. A few  
drops fell on the wood burning holes through it. Then he gave one  
glass to his guest.

"You health, Mr. Black." the czort rose his glass and drank half of  
it in one gulp "And I'm working as a link between Muggles and  
Magicals."

"Really? And doesn't it bother people a bit, you know, with you  
being a czort and all?"

"It's a tradition. And besides they all know that magic exist, so  
it's enough to say every time that there isn't such thing as magic.  
And even though there isn't I'm still revulsed by the fact that it  
exists. They like hearing that."

Harry didn't look convinced. He took a sip of the fruit wine hoping  
it might make the situation clearer. It didn't

"And you are working in the middle of nowhere with nobody around?"

"Sure. This way everybody knows how to find me." explained the  
czort as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "But enough  
of that" he finished his glass in another gulp "I guess you didn't  
come here to talk to me, did you, master Black?"

"Actually I was just looking for a few suggestions as to what to  
visit here."

"One moment" the czort said "You know a person like you might like  
to see Venice…"

"When I said here I was thinking more in the terms of a country"

"Of course you were. It's not far from here. Venice is a village  
between Biskupin and Venice lakes. Though I heard some stories that  
someone liked the name enough to use it for some city near Adriatic…  
Anyway, here is the address of Venice Devil, you may like to talk to  
him. He has a habit of scaring his guests away but he is pretty all  
right apart from that. And I heard that there will be hatching of a  
dragon in Krakow's dragon reserve. Polish Golden Wawel Dragon is  
nearly extinct now due to it's violent reaction to some food humans  
leave so the hetching is going to be quite an event. And besides  
you'd be able to see the capital at the same time."

The knowledge gained in primary school concerning geography suddenly  
surfaced in Harry's head.

"Isn't Warsaw the capital?"

"Muggle capital, yes. Though the magical capital was moved back to  
Krakow." czort's voice dropped to whisper "Too many ghosts. Some  
people found it unnerving. Especially foreign guests. But one does  
not speak about it openly."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"So Venice first, you say? Thank you for advice. Would you mind  
providing me a portkey?"

"For you, master? Free of charge. Double even is you want to catch  
the hatching as well." He set to work not waiting for reply "Here.  
It activates on words Wenecja' and smok'. Have fun, master."

Harry opened his mouth to say something and then changed his mind.  
He just smiled to himself and shook his head.

"Thanks. Until next time. And thanks for the drink. Wenecja"

He disappeared. The czort put a sign back in 10 minutes (if you're  
lucky)' on one of the branches and turned to the mirror that hung  
inside. After a moment a creature with horns and wheat legs appeared  
in view

"This is dytko central. Who do you want to talk with?"

"The boss."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes"

"Well, if you're sure. Connecting to Boruta's office"

"Sir? I just wanted to report that Mr. Black is visiting the  
country. I thought you would want to know."

"He's visiting? Now? Just when we're in the middle in another file  
crisis?"

"It's just an idea, sir, but maybe he came to provide a distraction  
from continuous file affairs?"

"Rokita?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Remind me to give you a pay rise if I don't fire you first. I'll  
tell everybody to look for Black files. It could be fun. For that  
matter, I'll hint the Muggles that they should start searching as  
well. And you may take the day off if you want."

"Thank you, sir. Goodbye, sir."

Rokita disconnected and disappeared from the willow not bothering to  
take the sign off.

At the same time Harry was just entering ruins of some castle.  
According to the piece of paper he got from the czort this was where  
he could find Venetian Devil. It didn't take long until some strange  
noises were heard. As he stepped a bit further the play of shadows  
accompanied the sound. And finally a creature half covered by  
shadows appeared.

"Who dares to enter my castle?" the figure demanded in a voice that  
would be scary for anyone who didn't happen to survive a few years  
of Potions taught by Snape.

"I'm Mr. Black. Venetian Devil, I presume?"

It seemed that at these words the figure lost the heart for haunting.

"I don't suppose you are going to run away no matter what I do to  
scare you?" the figure tried

"I don't think so. Though you may try inviting me to see a few  
albums of family photos or photos of your cats or both."

"I don't think I have any, sorry. But since you aren't running away  
I might as well introduce myself properly while we walk to the gold  
chamber where I live. I'm Miko³aj Na³êcz Chwa³owic. Pleasure to meet  
you, Mr. Black."

"You don't like to be addressed as Venetian Devil, I take it?"

"Well, it's too official I guess. I don't particularly mind it but  
it's more of a title than actual name. All my friends call me  
Miko³aj. Oh, here were are – the golden chamber."

"I can certainly see you believe in rich furnishing, Miko³aj"

The devil laughed

"Well, yes, the treasure. That's part of my problem, you know. I  
have four chambers full of treasure but I can give it only to a  
person that asks me for it and I'm obliged to scare people away. And  
even if someone doesn't get scared I can't give much. It's quite  
annoying, actually. I'm guarding the treasures for centuries and I  
can't even get a proper vacation because of that."

Harry looked sympathetic.

"Can't anything be arranged?"

"No. Sitting here all alone is giving boredom a whole new  
definition. And I actually like giving presents to those that  
actually need them, you see. only people seem to be giving up too  
easily, lately. You're the first person to come here in half a year."

"And have you considered perhaps making some sort of stipendium  
program?"

"What do you mean?"

"An organised for of what you said. Only instead of all those  
special effects you'd use one of the above chambers to interview  
applicants. An interview like that can be stressfull enough to  
consider your job done. I'm sure one on my man would be glad to help  
organizing it." he handed Miko³aj a zippo "Instuctions are on the  
side. You just need to ask for Pencil. And I'm sure wizards and  
witches from poorer families would be glad that there is a  
possibility like that."

"Sounds good. but under one condition, if you don't mind"

"What would that be?"

"I'm sure lending your name to promote the fund"

"I don't think it would be a problem."

The Nation Memory Institute was resembling a panicked hive at the  
moment. An elderly man sat in his office and was desperately tried  
to look as if he controlled everything that was happening.

"Sir? I think we found it at last."

"Good work, Nowak. Now bring be the Black's file here"

"Files you mean, sir. And it's Kowalski."

„Doesn't matter. Bring it here."

"Of course sir" the man gestured and another man carried couple of  
very thick files

"Thank you, Kowalski, put it on the desk"

"Of course. But it's Nowak, sir."

"Naturally" the man left

"So what can you tell me about him, Nowak?"

"Kowalski, sir. We were actually quite surprised when we found the  
file was complete, lacking only a photo. He was going by Czarny,  
which is a quite obvious pseudonym as it translates as Black into  
English. There was a note, that a few people tried to make him a  
photo and failed. When someone was send to remedy that he ended with  
severe case of hypothermia frostbites that made him loose a hand. In  
July. Another one was hit by a car. In the middle of a wood, forty  
kilometers from the nearest road. Then there was a gangrene case  
after a paper cut…"

"You are getting off the topic, Nowak."

"Kowalski, sir. The interesting thing about the files if that none  
of them state which site he was on. Just some observations, note of  
what he did from time to time. the first files were made during war  
and then they thought he was on a friend as he was fighting against  
nazis. Then he was back in 1948 and for two years it seemed as of he  
was in the opposition. And then He resurfaced in 1951 and seemed  
pretty neutral but the file said that he is not to be  
underestimated. And nobody is to aggravate him. He's described as  
too powerful to oppose. The last mention of him is from February  
1953. He left the country to go to USSR. He was heard mentioning  
that he has a meeting with a very important person in Moscow.  
Supposedly he never came back."

"Any idea who this person was?"

"Well, on one other occasion he mentioned that he knows Stalin  
personally so…" Kowalski quickly made some connections "But… sir, I  
think that not annoying this person was one of the smartest moves  
made by PZPR"

* * *

AN02: Dedicated to those who weren't as lucky. Absent companions. 


	4. This is Mr Black to Ground Control

Disclaimer: Always have competent Engineers

This is Mr. Black to Ground Control

"This is Major Tom to Ground Control . . . tell my wife I love her very much."

"She knows. This is Ground Control to Major Tom, your circuit's dead, there's something wrong. Can you hear me Major Tom . . . can you hear me Major Tom . . ."

"This is Major Tom to Ground Control . . . I see an old sailing ship. My god, it's the . . . ch man . . . fly . . . ng dutc . . . man."

"He's gone sir," the tech said sadly.

"Are you sure?"

"We couldn't get life support restarted," the tech said. "He can't be alive."

"The ship just disappeared," another tech said oddly. "This can't be right. It just . . . disappeared."

"I . . . I'll go tell his wife," the Mission Commander said. "Find out what went wrong. I don't want to loose any more people."

IIIIIIIIII

"Could you come up here for a moment Mr. Black?" Henchgirl called out. "I think you need to see this."

"What is it?" Harry asked as he stepped onto the deck.

"It looks like there's something wrong with that ship over there," Henchgirl replied. "Should we rescue them."

"Law of the sea," Harry agreed.

"We draw lots to decide who gets eaten?" The Professor said oddly.

"Not that one," Harry said. "The other one, the one about rescue."

"We rescue him and he works off his passage," the Professor said firmly. "Right."

"I think we can forget the part about making him work off his passage," Harry said mildly. "Bring him aboard. Might as well grab that ship of his too."

"Got it," Henchgirl agreed. "He's with the Doctor right now."

"I'll be in my quarters," Harry said with a yawn. "I'm going back to sleep."

"Good night," Henchgirl said.

"Well." The Professor checked to make sure Harry was long gone. "Do you think they'd mind if we had a little look at their ship before we returned it?"

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind," Henchgirl agreed. "Let's get to it."

IIIIIIIIII

"Where . . . where am I?" Major Tom gasped. "Am I dead . . . I see an angel."

"You're married," the Doctor said with a smile. "But I appreciate the thought. You're safe, we're taking you home."

"Home?"

"Just rest," the Doctor said.

"Ok," Major Tom agreed. His eyes began to close.

"Is he going to be ok?" Henchgirl peeked into the room.

"He'll be fine," the Doctor said. "A few more minutes . . ."

"Good," Henchgirl said firmly. "Did you hear what the Professor wanted to do?"

"What now?" The Doctor sighed.

"He thought we'd make your patient work his way home," Henchgirl replied. "But don't worry, Mr. Black set him straight. We're taking him home for free."

"Good."

"We'll, I'd better get back to the Professor. He won't remember to put the space ship back together unless I remind him to."

"Right, later then."

IIIIIIIIII

The Mission Commander didn't hurry as he walked out of the building, he still couldn't think of how he'd be able to bring himself to break the bad news. "It's my responsibility," he said for the hundredth time. "I have to . . . what in the hell?" He couldn't believe his eyes, sitting in the parking lot in the company vehicles only section was what appeared to be the missing space craft. He was only one of a group of people that stumbled towards the craft and after taking a couple deep breaths, he looked into the open hatch. "MEDIC."

IIIIIIIIII

"Did you remember to put the hatch back on?" The Professor asked as the ship got back on course.

"Yeah," Henchgirl agreed. "Did you remember to put the clock back on the right time after you set it forward?'

"I believe they like to call it a chronograph," the Professor said in a superior tone.

"Fine," Henchgirl growled. "Did you remember to set the chronograph back to the right time? It would be rude not to after you messed with it."

IIIIIIIIII

"That's the story," Major Tom said. "Then I woke up back here."

"You mentioned seeing an old fashion sailing ship before you blacked out," the Mission Commander said slowly. "And the transcripts have you say something about a flying Dutchman."

"Maybe," Major Tom said with a shrug. "I don't remember that part."

"Major Tom . . . have you ever heard the legend of the Flying Dutchman?"

"The part where the only way off is to find someone else to take your place?" Major Tom said with a laugh. "Well, as you can see they let me . . ." The Man turned white.

"What is it?"

"I just remembered a conversation they were having as I fell asleep," Major Tom whispered. "Something about how I'd normally have to work off my passage but someone named Mr. Black said I was to go free."

"Mr. Black?" One of the other men gasped. "It can't be."

"What do you know?" The Mission Commander demanded.

"Just . . . just rumors," the man replied nervously. "I . . . just rumors. But I think Major Tom is very lucky. According to what I've heard, Major Tom is one of a very small number of people that have been taken by Mr. Black and allowed to return."

"We'll get back to that later," the Mission Commander said firmly. "Next item on the agenda, does anyone have any idea how the chronograph could have malfunctioned so badly?"

"What happened to it?" Major Tom asked.

"If it's correct," the Mission Commander said with a laugh. "You've been gone almost five hundred years."

"If it involves Mr. Black, the chronograph might not be wrong."

An: I heard the song on the radio on the way home.


	5. Scared Straight

Disclaimer: Don't really feel like it at the moment so I'm just going to leave this space blank.

Scared Straight

"Listen up you little punks," the man at the front of the room yelled. "You're all here because you think becoming a dark lord is cool or edgy."

"Shut up square," one of the kids yelled.

"We wanna play it like that do we?" The man asked with a grin. "Alright everyone, why don't you open the folder on your desk and take out the card."

"A chocolate frog card?" One of the teens sneered.

"Read the name on the top."

"Mister . . . Black?"

"It used to be that you could become a dark lord without having to worry too much about being stopped," the man said. "Sure, you'd eventually get vanquished by an old wizard or a plucky young boy. But you still got a few years of wanton destruction . . . sometimes you even got to complete your conquest and become the legitimate government."

"So why can't you still do that?"

"Dark Lord named Tom Riddle AKA Voldemort ruined it for the rest of us," the man replied. "He decided that annoying Mr. Black while he was trying to take a vacation was a good idea. Before Voldemort stirred him up, Mister Black was content to allow things to handle themselves. He rarely interfered directly and when he did he usually made it look like an accident. After all, do any of you believe that the Dark Lord Vivatrix really died of a heart attack? Or that Attila the Hun choked?"

"Pfft," one of the teens sneered. "I bet I could beat him."

"Really? Then why don't I show you these slides, the first one is a before picture of the infamous Lestranges."

"They look normal."

"And after Mr. Black was done with them."

"Oh god."

"I'm gonna be sick." Several of the kids began vomiting.

"Here's a picture of Lucius Malfoy, one of the more influential members of the last administration . . . and after Mr. Black threw him off a building. Any questions?"

"Does he let anyone live?"

"When he does, the living usually end up regarding the dead with envy. I was on a strike team sent to kill Henchgirl, Mister Black was not amused. I now know that we wouldn't have been able to harm her, but as they say . . . it's the thought that counts." The man shuddered as the unwanted memories returned. "The first team was drowned and that should have been our first clue that Mister Black was not to be messed with. Mister Black then taught the trick behind breathing underwater, simpel when you know it . . . we thought . . . we thought it was just a taunt."

"What happened?"

"We waited until there was a hole in the wards and seized our chance when we found one, it was only open for a fraction of a second but we were the best at what we did . . . we thought so anyway. We arrived in a dark windowless room and at first we thought it was just a holding cell. We . . . we thought that at worst we'd be in there a few months before they decided to transfer us to a normal prison."

"How . . . how long were you in there?"

"Less then a month," the ex-minion said with a shudder. "Before we knew it, the room started filling with raw sewage. Thanks to Mr. Black's little trick, we couldn't even drown . . . we spent . . . oh god."

"Mr. Black . . . why didn't you kill yourself?"

"Our magic stopped working the second we got in that room," the man said sickly. "And the wards wouldn't let us starve . . . we still felt the pain of starvation but we stayed alive to experience every second of the torture."

"Mister Black doesn't sound so tough, he let you out didn't he?"

"No, Henchgirl did. Let that be a lesson to you, if you ever anger Mister Black your only hope is to throw yourself on Henchgirl's mercy . . . Mister Black doesn't have any. If she hadn't taken pity on us then we'd have been there until the next scheduled maintenance . . . fifteen years after we arrived in that tank. We annoyed Mister Black and he locked us in a room full of raw sewage for fifteen years, fifteen years of no food, no air, and unable to die."

"What happens when you anger him?"

"Pray that no one ever does."

"He can't have really done all these things," one of the girls said sickly. "He . . . no one is that powerful."

"Except Mister Black." The man took several deep breaths. "No one knows how powerful Mister Black is and no one knows what will happen if he ever gets angry enough to show us."

"I don't wanna be a dark lady anymore," the girl said sickly. "I wanna be a healer."

"Me too."

"I wanna be an Auror."

"I'm gonna teach."

"You all are losers," one of the boys sneered. "Mr. Black isn't that powerful and if I ever see him then . . ." The boy was interrupted by a minor earthquake that did no damage, just knocked a few books off the shelf and onto the loudmouth.

"You can't run from Mister Black, you can't hide from Mister Black, and it's not at all a good idea to insult Mister Black." The man said with a wave at the boy on the ground. "But most of all you should never tempt Mister Black . . . you never know how he'll react."

AN: Just another Omake that occurred to me when I needed more sleep. Not all that great but it also took me about five minutes to type out so I suppose that it all balances out.


	6. A Very Black Christmas

Disclaimer: This is a 'Make a Wish' Christmas Special. Reading this may ruin your life.

A Very Black Christmas

"Why did you makes a sleigh for Mortis?" Harry asked slowly.

"It's a one horse open sleigh," Henchgirl explained. "It's so you can fill in for Santa."

"And why am I doing that again?" Harry asked slowly.

"He never delivered any gifts to me," Henchgirl explained. "That can only mean that he's been kidnapped and held hostage. We'll launch a rescue mission after you get back."

"We will huh?"

"Yup."

Elsewhere . . .

"Game over man game over," an evil hippie or possibly whatever the opposite of a hippie said.

"What is it?" His accomplice asked.

"Mr. Black is saving Christmas man," the first man said. "He's onto our plan of keeping Santa prisoner so he can't deliver gifts for some dumb reason that doesn't make sense to anyone that isn't us."

"Mr. Black?" The second man asked sickly.

"Hah," Santa cheered. "He's gonna shank your jive turky asses."

"What the . . ."

"I forced him to watch every episode of the A-Team fifty times in an attempt to break his spirit man."

"Did it work?"

"Ah pity the fool that tries to break Santa's will."

"Never mind."

Some suspiciously mysterious and horribly painful accidents later . . .

And that boys and girls is how Mr. Black saved Christmas. Wait, what was I talking about? Who are you people and what are you doing in my computer . . .

Or if you'd prefer . . .

Omake: Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,

Santa had been kidnapped by an evil louse,

They'd killed most of his Reindeer,

And Santa did cry,

Who shall save me,

Who will kill that guy,

When out in the yard,

What should appear,

But Mister Black in a Sleigh,

Causing all to tremble in fear,

He'll kill us all,

The Head villain did scream,

Maybe with some sort of laser beam,

Merry Christmas to all,

Harry did say,

It's a happy holiday,

Come with me Mortis,

We have gifts to give,

And bad guys to make not live,

The bad guys did tremble,

Tremble in fear,

For Mister Black was upon them,

So they guzzled their beer,

A train for you,

And for you a pipe,

It's Merry Christmas to all,

Everything is alright,

Frowns of confusion,

They did appear,

Was Mister Black going to kill them?

Would pained screams be the last thing they would hear?

Harry looked around the room,

Satisfaction filled his insides,

He had saved Christmas,

Everything was just right,

With a wink and a grin,

He jumped in his Sleigh,

On Mortis,

He called,

We have much to do on this day,

We're alive,

Those evil did say,

Mister Black didn't kill us,

Hip hip hurray,

Mister Black didn't kill you,

That much is true,

Santa said,

His face turning blue,

He saved you for me,

And loosened my ropes,

I shall have vengeance for my reindeer,

And my helper elf Dopes,

Spare us our lives,

The bastards did beg,

With a cruel looking nod,

Santa shook his head,

Mercy dwells not in me,

He said with a lear,

Time to make you dead,

Your ends,

They are near,

So that's our story,

Little boys and small girls,

Mister Black saved Christmas,

The bad guys are dead,

And visions of Horror,

Are stuck in my head

Omake: Failed

"Remus?" Tonks returned to their quarters to find the werewolf half way through his second bottle. "What's wrong?"

"I failed Harry," Remus sobbed drunkenly. "He's dead."

"No you didn't," Tonks said slowly. "He's safe . . . at the Atlantis dig."

"Checked that," Remus slurred. "They've never heard of Harry . . . he wasn't there."

"What?"

"Think about it," Remus said. "When was the last time anyone saw Harry outside Atlantis?"

"At Hogwarts before . . ."

"No, that was Mr. Black. When was the school year ended," Remus said firmly. "That's the las time anyone saw Harry."

"But . . ."

"Sirius died and left everything to Harry," Remus said sadly. "Harry died and there with him went the Black family."

"And you think Mr. Black came to . . . investigate?"

"I've seen a lot of things in this castle," Remus was in danger of sobering up. "I once walked out a door and saw a sky with three moons, walked out another and saw a lot of little men in a village next to a road made out of gold bricks. Mr. Black must have been somewhere else . . . Harry's death . . ." Sobs wracked the werewolf's body.

"Caught his attention and he returned," Tonks finished grimly. "He returned and took a look around the world to see what had changed."

"And to avenge Harry," Remus agreed. "Nothing else makes sense."

"Then how do you explain the meeting we had in Atlantis?" Tonks demanded. "Mr. Black wouldn't be cruel enough to . . . to impersonate Harry like that would he?"

"Have you forgotten who Mr. Black is?" Remus asked taking a swig. "It was Harry . . . This castle leads to a lot of places, other worlds . . . maybe even other universes. Is it so hard to believe that one of those halls leads . . . to the other side?"

"Give me that bottle," Tonks demanded. "I don't think I want to think about this anymore without a couple stiff drinks."

AN: I'm at work, might as well make my time productive.

Omake by gimeGohan  
profile: Omake, based off the wedding scene.

Harry grinned as he nodded at the Shangri-la priest. "Sanzo, what can I do for you?" he asked, leaning back against the door frame.

The young man growled as he pulled a cigarette carton from his sleeves, shaking one out with a long-practiced flick of the wrist. "For one, you can stop acting like an idiot Black," he snarled as he lit the cigarette. "I know you're smarter than that. Secondly, I heard about your latest exploits, and I was wondering if you could help find something for me."

Harry grinned. "What do you want?"

"The other four Heavenly Scrolls. And Gyumaoh's head on a platter."

The young wizard grinned as he nodded. "Sounds doable. But only if you do something for me."

Sanzo's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And what is that?"

"Wel..."

Later...

"I can't believe I'm doing this!"

Harry grinned as he gently pulled a fold of fabric straight on the young man's robes. "Come on Sanzo, it's just a ceremony! And afterwards, you get the rest of the scrolls, and the end of your quest," he assured. Backing away, he pulled a green-trimmed scroll from his cloak and handed it to the priest. "To  
prove that I can get you the rest, here's the first. I believe you're familiar with this one?" he asked as he grinned.

Sanzo gaped as he looked at the scroll. "The Seiten Sutra!" he gasped, unrolling it enough to peer at the familiar symbols.

"I've got the other three as well," Harry said, grinning broadly. "You'll get them after the ceremony. Oh and," he jerked his thumb at the banquet table," You'll find the other requirement other there. May I suggest you try it with a little Curry? Quite tasty."


	7. To Put The Wrong Things Right

Disclaimer: Relies a lot on several of the story lines that other people have written for 'Make a Wish.' Many of these can be found in the file section of my group. On fanfiction dot net, several can be found on author Chris Hill's page which is linked in my favorite authors section.

To Put The Wrong Things Right

Remus was walking down a newly discovered section of Black Fortress on the way to the "Three Witch Angels" headquarters -- aka "3WA HQ" -- when someone called his name.

"Remus," the tantalizingly familiar voice repeated, "it is you."

"Lily?" the werewolf choked out. "But . . . but . . ."

"Is something wrong?" Lily asked. "You're supposed to be babysitting Harry with Sirius."

"Just needed some time away from the kids eh?" James asked with a laugh.

"But . . ." Remus collapsed.

"I need a Healer," Lily screamed, as she saw he wasn't playing a prank. Remus' skin was paler then she'd ever seen it before and he was panting for breath. He was in such bad shape that he looked decades older to her eyes.

"Stay with us Remus," James yelled.

"But you're dead," Remus gasped before it all went dark.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was kicked back and relaxed when the Professor ran in and bolted the door.

"Could I ask for your aid in resolving a situation?" the Professor asked with a nervous smile.

"What is it?" Harry replied.

"I am in a bit of a pickle," the Professor explained with a frown. "It is Henchgirl and my anniversary and I forgot to get her anything."

"Anniversary?" Harry asked dumbly, having never been in any relationship where he had a special date, with the exception of Voldemort and his followers' yearly attempts to rid Harry of his hated nickname, The-Boy-Who-Lived and even then Voldemort was in charge of planning the events and gifts on that day.

"Yes, the date that we met and decided to shatter the laws of nature and find out the things that man was not meant to know," the Professor said absently, "and she is quite cross with me."

"Oh . . . sucks to be you," Harry said with a shrug, knowing that despite their rather volatile relationship, Henchgirl wasn't likely to do anything permanent to her partner.

"Quite," the Professor agreed. "She has said that she will forgive me and not break both of my legs if I get her a massive thousand year old Basilisk . . . you wouldn't happen to know where I could find one would you?"

"Sorry," Harry replied. "Only one I knew about is dead."

"But you do know where it was before you killed it right?" the Professor asked with sudden intensity.

"Yes," Harry said slowly.

"You wouldn't mind . . . oh I don't know, jumping into another universe parallel to our own and getting it for me would you?"

"You remember what happened the last time," Harry growled.

"Yes I do," the Professor agreed. "And I think I've managed to fix that . . . the chances of you getting lost in the multiverse, inhabiting your younger body, and losing your hair are a mere ninety five percent . . . ninety nine point nine on the outside."

"What about just one of those things happening?" Harry sighed. "Or maybe two out of three?"

"Hmmm?" the Professor muttered absently. "Approaches one hundred, it's hard to be exact."

"Fine," Harry agreed. "Have everyone get everything I'll need together." Harry feigned indifference. Truthfully he liked these little field trips, but he wasn't about to let them know that because then they wouldn't put as much work into the few safety measures they used to lure him in with.

"Excellent," the Professor cheered, "you prepare your things and I shall prepare the transporter."

"Will do," Harry agreed. He left the Professor and was half packed when he got another visitor.

"Harry," Henchgirl whispered. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," Harry agreed. "What do you need?"

"You're already planning to . . . fix a few things in this world aren't you?" Henchgirl asked anxiously.

"Yes I am," Harry agreed. He didn't bother asking how the woman knew the details of the conversation he'd had with the Professor just a few minutes before or how she knew he had just decided he would be making major changes to the timeline. "It'll be nice to know that at least one world is . . . well I won't say perfect but at least a bit happier than here."

"Yes, about that," Henchgirl began. "You wouldn't mind changing one more thing would you?"

"What do you need?"

"Well . . ."

IIIIIIIIII

The Doctor double checked a few old records before making her way to the transportation chamber for a little discussion with the Professor.

"Can you do it?" she asked calmly, after he'd had a chance to go over the documents.

"Easily," the Professor scoffed, "in fact . . ."

"Do what?" the newly arrived Henchgirl interrupted.

"I had a request about the arrival point," the Doctor replied. She handed Henchgirl the old file.

"You . . ."

"Vic number five was a friend."

"I made a similar request," Henchgirl sighed. "Come on you troll, let's get everything set up before Mr. Black arrives."

"Already done you spiteful wench," the Professor replied cheerfully, "I didn't need your less then able help for such a simple task."

"Why you dirty . . ."

"Starting things without me?" Harry asked as he walked into the room.

"Hmm?" The Professor looked over. "Oh yes, we have a new device for you to try out on this trip."

"What device?"

"Here." Henchgirl handed him a small box.

"What's it do?" Harry pried open the box and peered inside.

"That small object that renders the killing curse . . . and all other curses for that matter, obsolete," the Professor said proudly.

"It also changes the very nature of dueling," Henchgirl added thoughtfully.

"Oh?" Harry asked with interest. "How does it work?"

"Well," the Professor began eagerly. "As you know, the flight path of curses is affected by gravity."

"Sure," Harry agreed. "Let's say I know that."

"We created a field to bend gravity around you to reflect curses back to their source," Henchgirl said proudly.

"Great," Harry cheered. "How do I eat?"

"Eat?"

"Or walk around without pushing things out of the way . . . does it reflect air?" Harry added with a sinking feeling.

The Professor and Henchgirl had a hurried conversation.

"You won't be able to eat, drink, or do much with it on," the Professor admitted with a frown. "But since we tied the enchantments to this stylish fountain pen who cares about not being able to eat or drink?"

"Can I at least turn it off?" Harry sighed. "And for that matter, what would happen if I used a curse or spell of my own?"

The Professor and Henchgirl had another hurried conversation in whispers.

"Why would you want to turn it off?" Henchgirl asked nervously. "It's not like you'd be trapped in it for all eternity . . . and even if you were, at least you'd be safe . . . you don't need food, water, or air anyway."

"Henchgirl . . ."

"Fine," the woman agreed with a pout. "We'll include an on off switch in the next design."

"Which will be the one you give me to use right?" Harry asked.

". . ."

"Henchgirl."

"Fine," Henchgirl agreed. "But if you get hurt, I'm going to make your potions taste anything but yummy."

"Agreed," Harry said. He handed the device back to the two crazed scientists. "Send me the new one when you perfect the off switch. What do I do now?"

"Just step onto the platform and stand in the middle of the circle," Henchgirl replied.

"In the middle of this thing that looks like a bulls eye?" Harry asked.

"Yup," Henchgirl said cheerfully.

"What are these brownish stains?" Harry asked. "They almost look like . . ."

"Bloodstains," the Professor agreed, "don't worry, we're fairly sure that we've solved that problem."

"If you say so."

"Ready?" Henchgirl asked.

"Ready," Harry agreed, figuring Fate wouldn't let him die in a simple experiment when there were so many other ways to screw with him if things worked as planned, "just where am I going to arrive anyway?"

"May I answer this one?" the Doctor asked.

"Go ahead," Henchgirl agreed.

"The roof of one of the stores on Diagon Alley about ten minutes before a rather momentous event."

"What event?" Harry asked.

"The day that the muggleborn population at Hogwarts was reduced to a handful," the Doctor replied, "a group of eight Death Eaters just happened to pick the day to attack that the Ministry had suggested Hogwarts conduct their muggleborn orientation day. Oddly enough, the Ministry had also suggested using older muggleborn students as guides."

The Doctor's smile turned cruel. "The alarm was never sounded, the merchants and purebloods didn't lift a finger to help, and no charges were ever filed. I lost a very good friend that day and would appreciate it if I didn't have to lose her again."

"Not to mention the fact that it would be a very good way to introduce this new dimension to Mr. Black," Henchgirl chirped, "gets things off to the right start so to speak."

"Fine," Harry agreed, "what do I do now?"

"Just step into the Quantum Accelerator and . . ." the Professor began.

"I thought we agreed to call it the Designated Dimensional Transporter?" Henchgirl asked.

"Turns out that acronym is already trademarked," the Professor explained. "It's that thing you do when you pick me up and slam me to the ground when I leave the cap off the tooth paste."

"Then we'll argue about the name later," Henchgirl said with a wave.

"What's the Quantum Accelerator?" Harry asked.

"That glowing thingy over there," Henchgirl replied.

"Then why did you tell me to stand on this target?"

"To keep you out of the way," Henchgirl said frankly, "wouldn't want you to accidentally wander into one of the ethereal streams or something would we?"

"I guess not," Harry agreed. He walked over to the odd device.

"Are you ready?" Henchgirl asked.

"Ready," Harry agreed.

"Contact." Henchgirl threw a switch which caused light to shoot across the room.

The last thing Harry remembered before the world went white was the sound of Henchgirl's maniacal laughter. Oddly enough he found the sound rather comforting.

Harry opened his eyes and looked down on an idyllic shopping scene. Mothers led their children from store to store while several students in Hogwarts robes made themselves available to answer questions.

"I'm here," Harry said into his zippo. "And I feel a draft."

"Hair restorer in your front pocket," Henchgirl said cheerfully.

"I also seem to be naked," Harry said mournfully, tapping his wand against his leg and feeling rather grateful he'd been prepared for something to go wrong and had kept his wand and zippo in hand.

"Oh yeah," the Professor mused. "I forgot about that feature. All true time-travelers travel naked, just find a biker and take his clothing."

"But he's not a time-traveler," Henchgirl protested. "He's a dimension hopper, it's completely different."

"Yes but it's a parallel dimension," the Professor rebutted. "So technically . . ."

"Technically my butt . . ."

"Henchgirl, there is no need to resort to such language."

"How about violence then you little troll . . ."

"Copyright infringement! Copyright infringement! Put me down!"

"Excuse me," Harry interjected. "I don't mean to interrupt, but could you please send me my clothes?"

"Sure, everything you were wearing is sitting in the hopper attached to the dimensional transport thingy just as they are supposed to be after a successful port." Henchgirl replied. "I'll send them to land right behind you. Now if you'll excuse us, we have to have a little discussion about the difference between D-hopping and time-travel."

"No," the Professor growled. "We have to have a little discussion about the importance of tradition and temporal theory."

"Right, Black out." Harry got dressed, checked his equipment, and settled down to wait. He really wasn't surprised that they'd designed the machine to strip the traveler naked based on an American movie's idea of timetravel.

IIIIIIIIIII

Adrenaline flooded Lucius's system as he arrived with his team. It was the first time he'd been placed in charge of a raid and he was determined to distinguish himself.

"Kill 'em all," Lucius commanded. He smiled at the groups of helpless muggles and students. "Filth like this has no place in our world."

He drew his wand and selected his target, a young girl of about five

years of age. Here on a shopping trip for an older sibling no doubt.

'Well . . . nits make lice and all that,' he thought to himself.

Lucius never saw the spell that killed him. One minute he was standing tall and the next he was laying on the ground trying to breathe through shredded lungs.

What had happened? Lucius wondered to himself. What had gone wrong?

IIIIIIIIIII

Harry calmly hit the last death eater in the back with what Henchgirl called the 'ball of razors' spell. Originally designed as a cooking spell that served much the same function as a food processor in the muggle world, Harry had found that it produced a rather spectacular effect when applied to a human body.

He stepped off the roof and almost negligently used another spell to slow his decent.

"Who . . . who are you?" one of the shocked bystanders asked in awe.

"People call me," Harry barely paused in his introduction as he ended the life of the one Death Eater that hadn't been killed outright with a quick cutting curse, "Mr. Black."

IIIIIIIIIII

Alice and Frank Longbottom were the first Aurors on the scene and what they found was carnage.

"What happened?" Frank asked, trying in vain to keep from stepping in

the scattered bits of Death Eaters.

"Death Eater attack," one of the muggleborn students replied, "we wouldn't have had a chance if the man in black hadn't saved us."

The student looked down at the Death Eaters with a sick expression on his face. "It was all over in less then two seconds. This one," he kicked the corpse of Lucius Malfoy before continuing, "was going to hex my younger sister when he bought it. I've . . . I've never seen anyone move so fast. Was he an Auror?"

"The man who saved you?" Frank clarified.

"Yeah."

"I don't think so," Frank said, "we were all in a meeting when this happened."

"What?" The student gaped. "But you were supposed to provide extra security for this . . . the Minister even said that this was too tempting a target without extra security, bloody hell it's the reason so many muggleborn agreed to be in one place."

"I know lad," Frank sighed, "our meeting was all about coordinating the extra security. You lot weren't even suppose to start showing up for another hour according to the ministry liaison."

"Then it's a damn good thing the man in black showed up," the student said firmly, "because the letter from the ministry says we're right on time."

"Yes," Frank agreed, "it is. He didn't happen to give his name did he?"

"Mr. Black," the student said, "and I wish there were ten more like him."

"So do I lad," Frank agreed. He flipped his notebook closed and walked over to his wife. "What've you got?"

"Death Eaters showed up, guy named Mr. Black kills them all, everybody is happy, the end. You?"

"Same same," he said, "next stop an interview with Sirius?"

"Unofficially," Alice agreed, "cause we don't want to make him a target. While you were doing that last interview some Ministry big shot showed up and began making noises about excessive force and making an example to show that this sort of thing can't be accepted in a polite society."

"What sort of thing, self defense?"

"That's how I took it," she said in a low tone, "bastard said it a bit too loud and I had to hustle him out before the crowd got ugly."

"So Sirius?"

"Sirius," she agreed.

IIIIIIIIIII

Douglas was not a happy wizard. Granted his wife had just given birth to identical twin girls, and granted he couldn't imagine being more content then he had been the first time he held them. You should wait, his friends had advised, you shouldn't bring children into this sort of world.

As the wards fell, he knew he should have listened to their advice.

"Take the girls and run!" he screamed, hoping desperately that his wife would listen. "I'll hold them off."

He'd gotten high marks in defense, time to see if it had been a waste of time to stay awake in DADA class, regardless of how much harder it had made him to prank.

IIIIIIIIIII

Sirius stared at his two friends as they asked him whether he'd had anything to do with the carnage in Diagon Alley that they'd just described to him.

"I'm telling you both that I was here with James and Lily the whole time," Sirius said firmly, "I wish I'd been at Diagon. Hell, I wish I could have taken out a group of Death Eaters as quickly as you say that guy did."

"But for once he's telling the truth," Lily interjected, "can you imagine Sirius being quiet about something like this?"

"He said his name was Mr. Black," Frank said, "any idea who it could have been?"

"No one from my family," Sirius said with a frown, "I'm the only one that would have and I couldn't even begin to think of who could have."

"Thank you for your time then," Alice said with a smile, "and thanks for looking after Neville while we're at work."

"No trouble at all," Lily said brightly, "it's nice for Harry to get a chance to have a playmate."

"Would you mind joining us for dinner later?" Frank asked. "We can't say when that will be, what with our odd hours, but we'd love to have you."

"You're of course welcome to come Sirius," Alice added.

"We'd love to come," Lily said, "just floo us when you get off work."

IIIIIIIIIII

Amelia Bones was the first Auror on the scene and was shocked beyond words to find a hyperventilating Doug Stavish standing over the bodies of three Death Eaters.

"What happened?" she asked carefully.

"I banished my chair at them and then flung every curse I could think of," he said dully, "I didn't know what else to do. I . . . I thought they'd block it or something, I . . ."

"Calm down," she said in a soothing voice, "it looks like a clear cut case of self defense to me."

"I just wanted to buy some time for my family," Doug continued, "I never thought I'd win."

"And a good thing you did," Amelia said in a low tone, "this way your children will have a father."

"This way my children will never make it to their second birthday," he snapped, "you know as well as I do what Death Eaters do to the families of people who successfully fight back!"

"Who said you resisted?" Amelia asked with a shrug. "Just this afternoon a wizard in black killed another group of Death Eaters that tried to attack Diagon Alley."

"Yeah," Doug agreed catching on quickly, "a wizard in black saved me. Used spells I'd never seen before."

"The one in Diagon said his name was Mr. Black," Amelia said with a smile, "do you think it was the same guy?"

"I'm sure of it," Doug agreed, "it couldn't have been anyone else. I certainly don't have the ability to win a duel against a single Death Eater, let alone three of them."

"Then that's what I'll put in my report," Amelia said, "alright?"

"Thank you," he sobbed, "thank you."

"Dont' thank me," Amelia said, "I didn't do anything. It was all the man in black."

"Right," he agreed, "all the man in black."

IIIIIIIIII

Fergus hated walking home after work but since he lived in a muggle neighborhood, he didn't have the option of using magical transport.

Why oh why did he choose to live in a bloody muggle area, he asked himself for the hundredth time. Because it was cheap, the answer rose from the depths of his subconscious.

"Bloody hell," he muttered to himself. "It's starting to rain."

Three quick steps took him to the shelter of the nearest overhang and he again cursed the necessity of living in a bloody muggle neighborhood.

"Are you going to buy a ticket?" the muggle behind the glass asked with a frown.

"Sure," Fergus agreed. "Why not, here you go."

The muggle frowned at the handful of loose change on the counter but handed over the ticket without comment, "first door on the left."

What the hell, Fergus thought to himself. Couldn't hurt to come in out of the cold for a few hours. The wizard walked into the theater and found himself a seat.

"Wake up," a whispered command woke Fergus from his slumber.

"Wha . . ."

"This is the best part," the voice replied. "Watch."

Fergus watched in fascination as the oddly dressed muggle on the screen flipped a large switch and called lightning down.

"Can muggles really do that?" Fergus asked in shock.

"Perhaps," the voice replied, "it's what I brought you here to see."

"Brought me here?" Fergus repeated dumbly.

"Yes," the voice agreed. "Without my intervention, you get back to your apartment before the rain starts and you repeat the same routine for several years until one day you can't take it anymore . . . to make a long story short, you and a friend end up watching this movie in several years and you decide to use magic to replicate the things you see here."

"So that's what I'm supposed to be doing with my life?" Fergus asked slowly.

"Perhaps," the voice replied, "who can say?"

"Well I'd assume you could, since you brought me here and implied it was what I was suppose to be doing with my life."

"Fine," the voice snapped, "it's what you were born to do."

"It's gotta be better then spell development," Fergus said with a shrug. "I thought that would be interesting but they never let us create just to create, they always want us to work on our assigned projects."

"And they always assign you to housecleaning charms," the voice continued. "They never let you do anything fun."

"Yeah," Fergus agreed.

"If you like," the voice said slowly. "I can help you change all that."

"I'd like," Fergus agreed. "Thank you, Mister?"

"Black," Harry said. "Mister Black . . . I think we have a lot to talk about."

IIIIIIIIII

Albus wanted to cry as he looked around the Order meeting, so many empty seats, so many witches and wizards lost against the dark.

"Is there any new business?" Albus asked.

"Thirty two dead tangos," Mad Eye said cheerfully, "all at the hands of a wizard calling himself Mr. Black."

"What?" Albus asked in shock.

"Blitzed the group that showed up to muggleborn day," Moody explained, "then interrupted a few home invasions. Residents at each house swear that it was a wizard in black that did it, matches the description of the first guy."

"I had another call before I came here," another Auror spoke up, "Martin Blankwell was attacked by Death Eaters."

"The dueling champion?"

"The same," the Auror agreed, "claims that he was saved by the mysterious man in black also." The Auror saw no need to mention the fact that Mr. Blankwell had been 'attacked' by Death Eaters four other times that day, some men had the worst luck.

"Find out what you can about this Mr. Black," Albus ordered. 'More death,' he thought to himself, 'if they're on our side or theirs it still means children without parents and parents without sons and daughters. When will it all end?'

IIIIIIIIII

Voldemort growled as he listened to the reported losses.

"I want you to find this Mister Black and I want you to bring me his head," the Dark Lord ordered.

"Yes master," the lackey simpered. 'Like Hell,' the man thought to himself.

He'd hadn't joined the Death Eaters to risk himself like that. He'd joined for the feeling of power he got when he cursed a helpless victim. "As you command."

Let the others take care of this dangerous new adversary. It was an attitude that was shared by many, perhaps most of his fellow Death Eaters.

IIIIIIIIII

Meredith was a happy young girl.

Today she was going out shopping with her older brother, the best Potions master in the world and she couldn't wait to get to the shop.

Her brother hadn't wanted her to come. He'd said that the best shops were in the worst part of town and that it was no place for a little girl that wasn't even old enough to go to school, but she had whined and complained until he finally relented.

Her Brother was nervous but Meredith could never be, not when she had her brother to protect her.

"Death Eaters," her brother hissed as a group of masked men appeared in the street. "What're they doing here?"

"What're Death Eaters?" Meredith whispered.

"Group of morons from England that think Muggles should be killed," her brother replied. "We're just going to back out of here and call the . . ."

One of the Death Eaters noticed the duo and threw a spell at them.

"Meredith, run!" her brother screamed. "I'll hold them off, don't look back, just run!"

Tears blurred the young girl's eyes as she followed her brother's instructions. The screams she heard behind prompted her to run faster.

She hated herself for running, she hated herself for not being able to protect her brother. Rushing around the corner, she ran into a tall man in black.

"No!" she screamed. "Don't hurt me!"

"It's alright," the man in black replied. "I'm here now."

"Who're you?" Meredith asked.

"No one important," the man replied. "Most people call me . . . Mr. Black."

"We have to go help my brother," Meredith said quickly. "Please."

"As you wish," Harry agreed. Harry lifted the small girl up on his shoulders and ran towards the sounds of battle.

Meredith cringed when she saw her brother on the ground surrounded by a group of Death Eaters. "That's my brother on the ground."

"Let's even the odds a bit shall we?" Harry suggested, "close your eyes."

A dozen quick cutting curses decapitated eleven Death Eaters and Harry shook his head in sorrow as he looked at the remains of Death Eater number twelve. "Guess that's another one that'll be kept out of the hunt on a technicality."

"Who're you?" one of the two surviving Death Eaters screamed.

"Reducto." Harry reduced the number to one with a spell to the head. "Mr. Black . . . and I don't like Death Eaters."

"Oh god." The Death Eater frantically activated his emergency portkey.

"Goodbye," Harry flung another spell. "Damn . . . only winged him."

"Thank you," the man on the ground managed to groan. "For saving my sister and for saving me."

"Happy to help," Harry said cheerfully. "Anyone would have done the same."

"I beg to disagree," the man replied. "Most people don't like to be involved."

"I suppose," Harry commented. "Here is your sister back, take care of her she has the potential to be a great Potions Mistress . . . among other things." He slipped the note into her pocket as he set her down.

"I will," the man agreed quickly. "May I ask your name so that I may know the name of the man to whom my family owes so great a debt?"

"Mr. Black," Harry replied. "Just Mr. Black. And there is no debt involved."

"There's never any debt between family," he murmured, too quietly for them to hear, as he vanished.

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia looked up as a particularly smug looking Auror walked into the breakroom.

"What is it?" she prompted.

"Add two more to the tally," the Auror said.

"What tally?"

"Mister Black waxed the Sanderson twins," the Auror explained.

"Aren't they the ones that killed your brother?"

"We were never able to prove that," the Auror said calmly, "not that it matters any more."

"No," Amelia agreed, "I suppose it doesn't."

"Add another thirteen," another Auror said as he walked into the breakroom, "Irish say that he got another thirteen in Dublin. Wiped out an entire strike team before they even knew he was there."

"This guy is everywhere." Amelia paused to think. "I'll be on my lunch break for the next hour."

"Need any company?" one of the others asked. "I'm feeling a mite hungry myself."

"And it'd be nice to get away from the office," a third agreed.

IIIIIIIIII

Sirius was in the middle of an 'important' mission for Dumbledore when he was set upon by a group of Death Eaters.

"Prepare to die Sirius," the leader of the group of thirty Death Eaters said menacingly.

"That's Mr. Black to you," Sirius replied defiantly. He ground his teeth, it was an ambush.

"Mr. Black you say?" one of the death eaters asked. "On second though . . .uh . . . I have a meeting with my wife that I must attend."

"I have to do my taxes," another volunteered.

"Garden degnoming."

"Root canal."

"I really should give my wife a break and change the triplet's diapers for the next few months," another mused.

"And I need to . . . do something in . . . Siberia."

"Me too."

"Yeah."

Sirius watched in shock as the Death Eaters made their excuses and disappeared.

"Lily is behind this," Sirius muttered to himself. "Still angry about the time she caught me putting monitoring charms on their shower and didn't believe my excuse that I was peeping on James . . . or maybe she did believe the excuse and got jealous . . . hmmmm."

IIIIIIIIII

A gorgeous platinum haired beauty walked into her father's office with a bored look on her face.

"What is it daddy?" she asked.

"Your cousin Lucius has met with some misfortune," the man said impassively.

"I'm supposed to care?"

"You're supposed to realize that you will have to give up your silly idea of becoming a Healer," he said firmly, "you have a responsibility to the family now and . . ."

"And I still don't care," the girl interrupted, "care to tell me how cousin Lucius died?" She smiled. "I didn't think so. The truth is that you don't have much of a choice. You can either work to get me disinherited or you can pretend that you support my career choice."

"How dare . . ."

"Goodbye daddy," the girl said with an impish smile, "have a good day."

"Imp . . ."

"Before you do that," the girl's wand appeared in her hand, "maybe you'd like to take a look at this business card I received earlier today."

Her father's face turned almost as white as his hair as he took the card with trembling hands.

"P . . . p . . . perhaps," he stuttered, "perhaps it would be good for the family to produce a healer."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry reached into his pocket to pull out his buzzing zippo and flipped open his portable floo with one hand.

"Black."

"We've included the modifications you asked for in the fountain pen," Henchgirl's voice said unhappily, "and we're sending it though."

"Thanks Henchgirl," Harry said gratefully.

"Don't thank me," Henchgirl growled, "pity yourself if you get hurt because you made me put in this stupid off switch."

"Black out," Harry said. It was like she thought he couldn't stay out of trouble and . . . best to end that thought there.

IIIIIIIIII

Sirius couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd willingly walked up to his parents door without planning a prank of some sort. He sneered at the house elf who arrived to take his coat, he didn't plan to stay that long.

"Why did you summon me mother?" Sirius growled.

"Son . . . we've been thinking," the old woman began. "Muggles aren't so bad after all."

"I always liked them," Trixie volunteered. "They're so . . . cuddly?"

"And huggable," Narcissa added.

"And well . . . how would you like to be the new head of the family?" his mother asked hopefully.

"Um . . . ok."

"Excellent," Narcissa said. "Trixie has already divorced her husband and I'm a widow. Would you consider allowing my son to carry the Black name?"

"Uh . . . sure," Sirius agreed.

It would take him months before he believed James when the man protested that he and Lily had nothing to do with any of the things that had happened on the weirdest day of Sirius's life.

IIIIIIIIII

Fear gripped James Potter's heart as the wards reported that an enormously powerful mage had just brushed them aside like cobwebs.

"Voldemort," Lily gasped.

"Take Harry and run!" he screamed at his wife. "I'll hold him off as long as I can!"

Lily ran up the stairs to the nursery as James prepared for the fight of his life.

"Petrificus Totalus."

James locked up and fell to the floor. He felt sick, his wife and baby were going to die and he hadn't even managed to put up a bloody bit of resistance.

Two large boots stepped over James and took his former place at the door.

James watched in despair as the door burst open to admit the Dark Lord Voldemort.

James watched in confusion as Voldemort cast the killing curse at the man in black, the man James had thought was one of the Dark Lord's followers.

And finally, James watched in shock as the killing curse seemed to whip around the man in black and back at the Dark Lord.

"And that takes care of that," Harry muttered as he secured Voldemort's wand. "For now anyway," he added.

"Nunngggg," James tried to scream as the man in black turned and began walking up the stairs towards the nursery.

IIIIIIIIII

Tears blurred her eyes as Lily cast every last bit of protection magic she knew.

The heavy footsteps coming up the stairs told her everything she needed to know. James was dead and Voldemort was coming to extinguish the last bit of the Potter line.

She whirled around to face the door, resolved to sell her life dearly in defense of her son and she nearly dropped her wand in shock when she heard a polite knock on the door.

"Voldemort's dead," a muffled voice announced, "James is safe and I'd like to have a word with you."

"What is it?" Lily asked suspiciously.

"It concerns your son and a certain prophecy," the voice replied.

"Come in with your hands up and your wand in your pocket," Lily ordered.

"Alright," the voice agreed.

The knob slowly turned and the door creaked open to reveal a man in black with an unremarkable face.

"What do you want to tell me?" Lily demanded.

"I've ruined a great deal of planning today," Harry said with a pleased grin, "you were supposed to die along with your husband."

"I know that," Lily snapped.

"What you don't know is that your baby would have lived," Harry continued, "first time on record a killing curse was blocked. It made him famous, a hero to the world."

"And an orphan," Lily added.

"Who was taken from his godfather and placed with your sister," Harry continued, "he lived a very difficult life."

"Get to the point," Lily ordered. She did not like this man in black, there was something about him that confused her motherly instincts.

"Voldemort isn't quite dead yet," Harry said simply, "he'll be back and the world will convince themselves that a boy will be their savior. They'll decide that they can sit idle while an untrained boy faces a man so skilled in the dark arts that he's able to escape death himself, for a time."

"What happens to my baby?" Lily demanded. "Tell me!"

"That's up to you," Harry said calmly, "will you allow them to do this to your son?"

"Never," Lily said fiercely.

"One more thing."

"What is it?"

"Prophecies are for the weak, people too cowardly to take control of their own destiny." With that, Harry disappeared leaving only a business card laying on the ground to show that he had ever been there.

"James," Lily sobbed. She gathered up her child and ran down the

stairs.

Her heart almost stopped when she saw him on the ground, it was only the steady rise and fall of his chest that prevented her from bursting into tears.

"Get away from them," Sirius screamed his battle cry as he burst through one of the windows, "how about . . ." he trailed off when no enemies seemed to present themselves. "James." Sirius rushed to the side of his fallen brother.

"How is he?" Lily asked.

"Just petrified," Sirius said in relief. A quick counter curse had the man on his feet. "What happened."

"The man in black," James said breathlessly, "he killed Voldemort."

IIIIIIIIII

Celebrations rocked the United Kingdoms' small magical society when news of Voldemort's death broke.

"Mr. Black has saved us all," a drunken witch screamed.

Most of the revelers were polite enough to, at least outwardly, accept the Potter family's insistence that the mysterious Mysterious Black had saved them all. Privately, well that was another thing entirely and not something to be discussed in polite company.

While most of their friends celebrated, the Longbottoms were in a bit of a pickle.

"Just tell me where my master is," Severus purred, "and this can all be over."

"We don't know," Frank screamed in an attempt to distract the insane man away from his wife and son, "even if we did . . ."

"CRUCIO," Severus incanted. He held the charm for several seconds. "Would you like to try again?"

"Is this a private party?" another voice rasped from the shadows. "Or can anyone join?"

"Who's . . ."

Severus screamed as a mysterious and presumably caustic liquid hit him in the face. He'd found a measure of redemption in the last world, he'd never get a chance to look in this one.

"One."

Barty Crouch collapsed in pain as his kidneys exploded.

"Two."

The Lestrange brothers wildly cast hexes into the darkness in a vain attempt to hit, or at least slow down their attacker.

Rabastan's wand clattered to the ground as the blood seeping from every pore in his body ruined his grip.

"Three."

"What do you want?" Rodolphus sobbed. In seconds, he'd seen his brother, and partners reduced to quivering wrecks by an unseen attacker.

Rodolphus' world dissolved into pain as his immune system turned against the rest of the body.

"Four."

"Who are you?" Frank called out.

"Me?" Harry laughed. "I'm just a guy doing a favor for a friend."

IIIIIIIIII

Sirius was in Diagon Alley looking for the Longbottoms after a tip from his newly divorced cousin that there was going to be an attack on the family of Aurors. All seemed lost when he caught a flicker of

movement in the corner of his eye.

Cautiously, the man drew his wand and crept into the narrow passageway. Dozens of skirmishes and years of training did nothing to prepare him for what he was about to find.

A chorus of screams hit Sirius the moment he crossed the boundary of the silencing charm.

"What the hell happened here?" Sirius mumbled in shock as he took in the scene of carnage.

"Sirius?"

He whirled around to find Alice cradling Frank's head in her lap.

"Alice?" Sirius rushed to her side. "What happened?"

IIIIIIIIII

Selene Lovegood was in her kitchen preparing lunch when she got an odd feeling that she was not alone.

"Who's there?" she asked nervously.

"Next time ask with a hex," a strange voice rasped, "sorry to barge in like this but the door was open."

"What do you want?"

"A conversation."

She turned to find a man in black standing in the doorway.

"Mister Black, I presume?"

"You presume correctly." Harry coughed into his hand, it came away red. "Damn, looks like I did break those ribs."

"Voldemort?" the woman asked sympathetically.

"Slipped in the shower last night," Harry replied with a grimace. "Embarrassing."

"You killed Voldemort with broken ribs?" she asked flatly.

"He was mostly reputation," Harry said quickly. "But that's not important. Look at me."

"I am looking at you," she said dryly.

"Not like that, use your . . . heh . . . inner eye."

"That's one pick up line I haven't heard," she said with a grin. "Fine, why not. But I think I should tell you that I'm in a relationship with . . . oh god."

"I shared a bit of the future with Lily Potter and I'm going to share a piece with you," Harry continued.

"No, please I don't want to hear it." The shaking woman tried to back away.

"It's about your daughter," Harry persisted. "Conceived about two months ago, when you and your husband were playing Naughty Headgirl and Perverted Prefect."

"Daughter?"

"Luna was a wonderful child but a bit . . . loopy," Harry explained. "She could never get over your death."

"My . . . death."

"An accident when you were researching a new spell," Harry said. "She watched you die."

"What should I do?"

"I'd advise you to keep someone on hand the next time you do something so dangerous," Harry said. "Or not, it's your decision."

"So if I don't then I die?"

"Perhaps, the future isn't written yet."

"Who should I have backing me?"

"I can't say . . . unless."

"Unless what?"

"Want a job, discovering things man was not meant to know? It has full medical and dental."

Mrs. Lovegood smiled dreamily. "Well seeing as how I'm a woman that shouldn't be a problem."

Harry stared at the woman for a moment before shrugging, worked for him.

IIIIIIIIII

Dumbledore stumbled into his office after a night of heavy celebration. The Dark Lord was deadish and the prophecy could be put off for another decade or so.

"Really must remember to keep an eye on young Harry," Dumbledore muttered to himself, "really must."

"Learn to be a Headmaster," a dark voice interrupted. "I gave you a second chance, see that you use it. If I should decide to come back, I would be most displeased to learn that you sat by and did nothing while Voldemort mustered the resources needed to come back."

"What do you mean?"

"Voldemort will be back and I will not deal with him for you a second time. Rather then blindly following prophecy, rather then placing the fate of the world on the shoulders of a child, why don't you clean up your own mess? Voldemort was your creation, you deal with him. If you don't, then I shall deal with you."

"Who's there?" Dumbledore demanded. The old man drew his wand and did a slow spin around.

"Just a man here to pick up a pet," the voice echoed in the empty room.

"Show yourself," Dumbledore ordered.

The only reply he got was a mocking laughter that filled the room.

A thorough search of the room turned up nothing to suggest that his visitor had ever existed save for a note pinned to his pillow. It said; Second chances are wonderful things. I would suggest that you try giving them to the good guys.

IIIIIIIIII

"And that's what happened," the still shaking Remus explained, "how can you even be here?"

"They are here because all things are possible on Mister Black's Island," the Doctor said as she walked up and checked Remus' chart. "The laws of time, space, even reality mean nothing here."

She glanced over at a pair of young interns fussing over a patient. "You can meet lost loved ones or accidentally wander into another reality." She laughed. "Or turn the corner and come face to face with another version of yourself."

'Or employ a younger version of yourself as an intern,' the Doctor added in her mind.

"Is Remus going to recover?" Lily asked nervously.

"He'll be fine," the Doctor replied, "physically. Mentally on the other hand . . ."

"Mentally?"

"I imagine that it's going to be some time before people stop laughing at the idea the leader of the 3WA fainting like that," the Doctor laughed, "a very long time."

AN: Dogbertcarroll added a bit of polish to this and a bit here and there. As a matter of fact I'm quite sure he deserves to have 'The great' added just before his name.

AN: He also edits my author's notes.

Omake for 'To Put the Wrong Things Right'

Harry looked around and was rather surprised to find himself in the Department of Mysteries and in the midst of a battle.

After absently casting a summoning charm to save his godfather, he summoned his scythe and removed the heads of the nearest Death Eaters.

With a sigh, Harry took in the situation. His friends had sent him to the wrong time, and he was the center of attention. Well, nothing for it but to finish up here and be on his way.

"Now you know," Harry said with a frown, "where I'm from it's not considered polite to possess young wizards, not at all the sort of thing a gentleman does."

"Who are you?" Voldemort hissed. "And how were you able to sever my connection with the boy?"

"The name's Mister Black," Harry replied as he separated the Dark Lord's head from its body. "And I'm just a guy who took a wrong turn at Albuquerque."

Everyone in the department fearfully watched as the man who identified himself as Mr. Black reached into his pocket.

"Hey Harry," Harry said as he threw a zippo at his counterpart. "Directions are on the side, ask for Henchgirl or the Doctor if you need anything or just want to talk. Now if you all will excuse me," Harry pulled out his own zippo and whispered something into it. "I must be on my way."

They watched in shock as the stranger disappeared in a flash of light and all eyes turned to Dumbledore.

"Who was he Professor?" Tonks asked.

"A legend," Dumbledore gasped. "One I never believed to be real until today," he continued, absently stroking his wand.

AN: Fics, Author's Notes, and Omake. Dogbertcarroll does it all. He also writes some great fics, go to my favorite Authors section, click on his name, and check his stuff out.

The other Omake for 'To Put the Wrong Things Right'

"Did you make it this time?" Henchgirl's voice asked through the floo.

"Still a bit late," Harry said as he looked at the group of people gathered in the distant grave yard. "Give me a few minutes."

"Ok."

"Kill the spare," Voldemort's voice echoed.

"Yes master."

Harry quickly summoned the headstone belonging to one of Voldemort's ancestors to intercept the deadly curse.

"I just can't catch a break can I?" Harry muttered. "Reducto."

The two boys watched in shock as Wormtail's head turned into a fine pink mist.

"Uh . . . what now?" Cedric asked.

"How about we see if this bloody portkey will take us back?" Harry suggested.

Harry watched as his counterpart disappeared and strolled up to the Dark Lord's current form.

"Who are you?" Voldemort demanded weakly.

"Mr. Black," Harry said with a grin. "And these boots were made for stompin." A quick cleaning charm and zippo call later, Harry was again on his way to the past.

Omake: Another wrong turn in time by migeleelrubio

Mr Black stared.

The basilisk stared back.

Mr Black started to frown.

The basilisk started to cringe and hiss,"I'm to young to die."

"Can't I ever catch a break?"

A completely frightened basilisk slivered over the diary, incidentally crushing it, destroying the young Riddles ghost and waking Ginny.

"I mean come on, nothing but a phoenix is supposed to able to ignore a bas ... oh hell."

Harry wasn't sure what was going on, but that ranting figure just scared a basilisk, and won the staring match. Nope can't forget that.

"Harry, Ginny follow me and I'll get you out." Mr. Black decided. "After this I really need another vacation."

IIIIIIIIIII

"He said he was Mister Black and that he needed a vacation."

"Mr Black you say?" one of the portraits squeaked.

As everyone stared at it, it began to speak once more, "about 600 years ago I came upon a small parchment, it said that it was Mr Black that taught Merlin magic after taking pity on him and liking his food."

"So I was saved by someone who taught magic to the greatest wizard we know of and scared a basilisk almost to death," Ginny concluded.

"well is seems like it, but why would a person like that ..."

Little Ginny decided one thing, her crush was nice. That person saved her for some reason. That meant that she had a reason to live, or was it that he saved Harry? "Harry, when you turn 16 you will marry Hermione and me, he saved us both after all, I won't dream parting you with Hermione."

Jealousy was kinda unimportant when saw someone who stared at a basilisk like at a kitten who ate a goldfish, and ignored the Lord Voldemort.

My Note, I'm not the author so it's not an AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Back In Black Omake

Omake: Big Appetite

Harry walked into the Big Texan Steakhouse with an empty belly and three days of sleep to take care of.

"What'll it be, sir?"

"Give me the biggest steak you've got," Harry said sleepily.

"You want to take the seventy two ounce challenge then?"

"Whatever," Harry agreed, "just get it here fast."

"Right away sir." They tossed the steak on the grill and set it in front of Harry a couple minutes later. "Something wrong sir?"

"That's kinda big," Harry said in disappointment, "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm gonna need at least one more of these," Harry replied, "be good enough to cook it up while I eat this."

"If you want." The staff watched in shock as Harry downed the steak in record time, then the next, and the one after that.

"That's the stuff," Harry said with a satisfied burp, "how much do I owe you?"

"No charge sir . . ."

"Huh?" Harry asked in shock, he'd head that the people in Texas were friendly . . . something he hadn't been able to experience on his first pass through the state. "You sure?"

"You passed the challenge . . . three times, your meal is free."

"Thanks then," Harry said as he gathered his things, "you know where I can get a room around here?"

"I'll draw you a map, just . . ."

"Yeah?"

"What's your name? So we can put it on the wall."

"It's Black," Harry replied to the suddenly frozen cook, "Mister Black."

AN: They had a thing on steakhouses on the travel channel. Mmmmm, meat. More polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Omake: The Last Starfighter

Harry sat in the cockpit of a futuristic space ship and wondered how he'd gotten himself into this situation.

Oh right, he was an idiot.

Harry had learned his lesson on his last vacation, no vacations meant no crazy coincidences, no being attacked by villains for no reason, and absolutely no excitement.

All he'd wanted was a nice quiet outing, just a few hours to himself.

He should really have known better.

He had left the island with the intention of having a nice quiet afternoon doing whatever it was people his theoretical age were supposed to do.

He'd arrived in a small town in California and after a few hours of scratching his head, he realized that he had no idea what kids did.

Three hours of research later and he learned that they liked to play video games at arcades.

"What is it?" the unmotivated teen behind the counter asked.

"What is it?" The unmotivated teen behind the counter asked.

"I need some coins," Harry said laying a couple of bills on the counter. "And some advise."

"What?"

"Which game is fun?"

"Try that one over there," the teen said with an annoyed sigh.

"Thanks," Harry said. He gathered up the coins and went to the recommended game. "The Last Starfighter huh?"

After three hours of play, Harry still had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. He just hit buttons and moved the joy stick around, whatever he was doing seemed to be working since the game had yet to ask for another coin.

"Woah," the pimply teen that had suggested the game gasped, "you're gonna beat the record."

"Is that good?"

"It's great . . . what level do you have it set on?"

"Level?"

"Let me see . . . extra hard? I've never seen anyone get past the first stage on extra hard, how much has it cost you so far?"

"Only the one coin," Harry replied. He still hadn't figured out how they made any money on these things.

Long story short, a creepy guy showed up and had somehow managed to talk Harry into coming with him on an adventure.

"Glory for you and profit for me," the man said grandly, "just go out on a training flight and see how you like it."

"I don't know," Harry muttered, "my friends are going to come looking for me if I don't get back soon."

"Just a short flight and then we can go back to assure your friends that you're alright."

"Fine," Harry agreed. Chances were that the team from Black Ink was on its way anyway. "Where do I go?"

"With this gentleman over here," the man said with an oily smile, "there you go."

"I will be your navigator," the scaly gentleman said with a salute, "it is an honor to work with you."

IIIIIIIIII

"We just have to sit here and hope they don't notice us," the navigator whispered, "shut off your systems."

"Right," Harry agreed. He reached down to shut off the power and winced when the ship launched a missile towards the enemy dreadnought. "Oops."

"Oops? Well . . . I suppose we were going to die anywa . . . my god," the alien choked.

They watched in shock as the missile miraculously flew into a two meter exhaust port and destroyed the ship.

"Well . . . that's not something you see everyday."

"Let's get back to base."

AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Omake by Awlric Hayell

Profile: .net/u/1048146/

--------------------

I'm sorry, but I thought of this in Boot camp and it had to be done.

-

Harry sighed again as he surveyed over new acquisition. It was nothing much really, just a valley. It was the name of the valley and how it came into his possession that had him wondering if he had a curse on him. Perhaps that Chinese one about 'living in interesting times' that he'd read about once.

Oh, it was surprisingly simple for him to obtain the deed to this particular patch of land. After all, how many demons would willingly tangle with the infamous Mister Black? But this was just ridiculous! He had only wanted a drink and that damn Lucifer had up and given it and the deed to him without so

much as a 'by your leave.' And that name...

"Yea, and though I walk through the valley of the Shadow of Death, I shall fear no evil, cause I own the damn place," Harry muttered exasperatedly as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Why can't I ever have a normal vacation?"

My Note, I'm not the author so it's not an AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Omake by lucindas43302

Doctor Bunsen Honeydew looked up at the black-clad man who had just stepped out of a swiftly closing portal. He seemed... rather indescribably ordinary, and quite calm.

He clearly did not belong in Muppet Labs.

Pitching his voice to carry, Bunsen asked, "Excuse me, sir, but are you lost?"

"No, I'm just a guy on vacation," the man replied. "And you don't need to call me sir. I'm Mr. Black."

Frowning, Bunsen tried to remember where he'd heard that name. It sounded familiar...

"Mep meep meeep!" Beaker shouted, running into the room, his eyebrows smoking. "MEEEP!!"

Mr. Black made a few gestures, and a slight shimmer blocked the doorway that Beaker had just ran through. The inevitable explosion was trapped behind the shimmer.

"I hope I haven't interrupted anything particularly unstable, I know how labs can be," Mr. Black offered.

"Meep mee meep meep," Beaker gestured back at the shimmer, now blocking a roiling mass of orange and red smoke.

"Really? The Count is in? I wouldn't have expected him to be so far from home," the man sounded surprised. "I haven't seen my friend in quite a while."

"Meep me mee meep, meep." Beaker insisted, and gestured back at the smoke. "Meep meep."

"Did you help Kermit figure out his medication?" Bunsen asked, trying to figure out who the stranger could be and just how he knew the dangerous vampire. "You do know that he's a vampire?"

"Of course he's a vampire," the man waved his hand, and the smoke swirled and condensed into a large red and orange streaked marble. "But why on earth would he be taking medication?"

"err..." Bunsen removed his glasses and scrubbed at them, stalling for time.

"Nevermind, I'm sure he can explain. I've got plenty of time," the man turned and walked off towards the room where the Count had dragged all the ledgers.

"I come back to visit and my friend's started taking medication. What next?"

"Beaker, perhaps it's time for us to go out somewhere else for lunch?" Bunsen looked over at his assistant, who was trembling.

"Meep meep meep."

"Dinner then. Somewhere away from the lab and in the fresh air," Bunsen shivered. "We should give them time to catch up on past events."

For the first time, Doctor Bunsen Honeydew felt fear as he left his laboratory.

End: Visiting Friends.

My Note, I'm not the author so it's not an AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

Omake by awl_hayell

Now I know this is really really really late, but I had to do it when I re-read the chapter. (chapter 2, by the way)

True Omake Time! This is what could have happened had Harry been feeling playful.

"Sure," Harry nodded then added hopefully, "I don't suppose that you could take my statement while I got something to eat?"

"So long as you aren't with them," the man motioned towards the Death Eaters, "then you can give your statement standing on your head Mr.?"

"Black," Harry gave his most charming smile, "may I lower my arms, they're starting to cramp."

"You may," The woman nodded,"I am Staatstovenaar Annie Van Der Mijer, could you tell me what happened here?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, paused as an insanely hilarious idea ran through his mind, then grinned mischievously. "Could you wait for just one moment?"

"Whenever you're ready," Annie granted him, looking confused.

"Thanks." In an impressive feat of acrobatics, Harry flipped into a handstand and slowly lowered himself until he was standing on his head. "Well, I was just sitting down for lunch when...what?"

Annie struggled to keep from laughing out loud at the powerful and obviously crazy man. "Nothing...nothing. *snirk* Go on."

My Note, I'm not the author so it's not an AN: polish by Dogbertcarroll here too.

AN: Dogbertcarroll did a lot of editing on this. Anyone who's on my group can attest to the fact that the majority of things I post are riddled with errors and typos. They in general and Dogbertcarroll in particular are responsible for the fact that this is even readable. Props to them. Merry christmas to all to all a good night.


	8. Another Black Halloween

bDisclaimer: It's that time of year again. Shoddily done, low quality, and cliched. In my defense I forgot all about this and the date what with all the tests to take and papers to write so I was a bit short on time.

Another Black Halloween

It didn't take Xander long to find himself a toy pistol. Shortly after that he made his excuses and beat a hasty retreat, not able to stomach listening to Buffy gush over the dress, or rather not able to stomach the creature she was wearing it for.

Just as Ethan was about to make his offer, the blond in question was distracted by another costume.

"Willow, how about this one?" Buffy asked, pointing to a mad scientist's outfit. "It'd be perfect for you."

"I don't know," the shy redhead demurred.

"Your friend is quite correct," the cultured voice caused both girls to jump. "And she'd be perfect for the other costume in the set."

"The Doctor's outfit?" Buffy asked. "I don't know, I was planning on . . ."

"You wear that one and I'll wear the other," Willow offered.

"Deal." And just like that, the world changed.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was relaxing in his inner sanctum, or his office as he'd mentally labeled it. Henchgirl always got huffy when he slipped and said it out loud. He'd just settled down in his favorite chair when the call arrived.

"Mr. Black," the Professor's voice sounded almost too calm through the portable floo connection. "Could you come down to the lab, please."

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"Henchgirl and the Doctor collapsed," the Professor reported. "Medical can't find anything wrong with them."

"I'm on my way," Harry growled.

IIIIIIIIII

Henchgirl smiled when the world blurred and reformed into something else. About time something like this happened to her, not fair that Mr. Black got to have all the fun.

The brilliant woman reached into her pocket and pulled out her Zippo. "Mr. Black, are you there?" She'd always wanted to be on the other side of things. "Any receiving station, this is Henchgirl. Please respond."

"This is the Doctor," her Zippo crackled. "Where are you?"

Henchgirl checked her Zippo. "Just down the street. I'll be there in a jiffy."

She was about half way to the Doctor's location when she came across an oddly familiar boy clad in olive drab fatigues.

"Hello," she greeted the boy. "Henchgirl here, who are you?"

"Lots of folks around here call me Joe," the soldier replied. "You know what's going on?"

"Not yet, come on."

"Any reason in particular I should be going with you?"

"You wouldn't leave a helpless girl like me alone and undefended, would you?" She batted her eyes cutely.

"I suppose not," the soldier laughed. "Lead the way."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry watched as the Professor first discovered and then traced the thin stream of magic anchored to his two friends.

"Hēurēka," the Professor shouted. "I've found them."

"How soon can you send me after them?" Harry asked calmly.

"Shouldn't be long," the Professor replied. "Not for someone of my genius."

IIIIIIIIII

The Doctor gave a friendly nod to the strange redhead in her friend's clothing.

"Henchgirl, I presume."

"Doctor," Henchgirl chirped. "You're looking shorter and flatter than your usual self."

"I'm not the only one that's changed their look. Who's the boy?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm not sure," Henchgirl admitted. "But it feels like I should know him."

"You might," the Doctor said calmly. "I did a quick check of myself when I arrived and I found that several memories didn't come along when I possessed my host. I believe that it's a consequence of the primitive nature of the spell."

"How come we get kidnapped by an incompetent idiot?" Henchgirl pouted. "The idiots that kidnap Mr. Black are always at least semi-competent."

"Gotta start somewhere," the Doctor consoled her friend. "Besides, I think having an incompetent idiot as our opponent could work to our advantage."

"How so?"

"We might be able to get to him before Mr. Black does."

"Or we might not because he'd be too stupid to cover his tracks," Henchgirl retorted.

"Then why try?" the Doctor grinned. "Why not just ignore the villain in favor of having a bit of fun?"

"Incompetent moron is beneath our notice anyway," Henchgirl sniffed.

"Not to mention the fact that dealing with him personally is a bit too . . . menial," the Doctor agreed. "Refined women such as ourselves have much better things to do."

"What do you suggest, then?" Henchgirl asked eagerly.

"First thing's first. We need to make sure these bodies don't retain any sensitive information when we leave."

"Side effects?"

"The information we don't delete will be stronger than would have otherwise been the case."

"Why don't we just delete everything then?"

"Because I, for one, have no desire to spend the remainder of the night as a drooling idiot."

"Point."

"Do you want in on this?" The Doctor asked their green clad companion.

"Why not?" The soldier shrugged. "What do I have to do?"

"Just try to relax," the Doctor advised.

IIIIIIIIII

William the Bloody was puzzling over the message his insane paramour had shouted before she'd disappeared into the night when a flash of light and a boom of thunder disturbed his reverie. He'd just managed to regain his wits when he became aware of a stranger in their midst.

"Who in the hell are you, ya bloody wanker?" Spike demanded belligerently.

"Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste," Harry said with a grin, "you can call me Mr. Black." The vamps paled as Harry drew his wand. "And you can say goodbye."

IIIIIIIIII

The Doctor raised an eyebrow when her colleague squealed happily and darted into one of the town's numerous alley ways. She raised the other when Henchgirl returned with a bound and gagged captive.

"Look at this," the mad scientist chirped. "Have you ever seen one of these before?"

"Souled soulless vampire," the Doctor reported. "Fascinating."

"On with the vivisection," Henchgirl cheered.

"We can't do that," the Doctor said firmly, scandalized by the very notion. "The Hippocratic oath says . . ."

"What if we put him back together after we're done?" Henchgirl asked hopefully.

"Well . . . I suppose there isn't any harm in it if we put him back together afterwards," the Doctor said slowly.

"Mmmph?" the paralyzed vampire's eyes widened in fear.

"Just calm down," the Doctor told her test subject. "This won't hurt a bit."

"That's what she always says," Henchgirl confided. "Don't worry, the pain will go away after your nervous system overloads."

IIIIIIIIII

It didn't take Harry long to gain his bearings and figure out what was going on. He had a man to kill and an example to make.

"You know, Ethan, I thought no one would dare try something like this after the example I made last time," the voice in the shadows said calmly. "I guess I didn't make it memorable enough. We all learn from our mistakes, some of us more than others."

"Who's there?" Ethan asked nervously. "Show yourself."

"The name's Black, Mr. Black," a voice whispered into the chaos mage's ear.

"Wha . . ." Something caught Ethan's hand in a strong grip as he tried to spin around.

IIIIIIIIII

Henchgirl pumped a fist into the air and gave a triumphant yell.

"What'd you find?" The Doctor asked.

"Found the key to breaking the soul curse," Henchgirl reported.

"Oh?"

"He needs to have consensual sex with a vampire slayer," Henchgirl giggled. "Whoever set this curse up wanted to make sure it stuck."

"Can you modify the key?"

"No, but I can add another curse. I'm also gonna make sure it's got a similar key, but instead of releasing his soul it triggers an explosive castration hex."

"Any reason why we shouldn't just dust the poor creature and put it out of its misery?" The Doctor was more then a bit disgusted by what she'd been able to deduce about the curse.

"I couldn't destroy something as unique as our newest specimen," Henchgirl squeaked, scandalized by the very notion. "I can't even conceive of doing something like that."

"Not until we're sure we've learned everything we can from it anyway." The Doctor sighed. Why did she have to be the only responsible adult in the group?

"Goes without saying. I suppose we can entertain the idea of destroying it then."

Gunshots and the sound of a man squealing in agony brought the two women back to the present.

"Leech managed to free itself, so I stopped it," the soldier explained. "Do you want me to shoot it again?"

"It would give us a chance to see if having a soul effected its healing rate," Henchgirl mused.

IIIIIIIIII

The Mayor was taking advantage of what should have been a slow night to catch up on his reading when he felt his wards shatter. Seconds later, he heard a polite knock on the door.

"Come in."

"Hello, Mayor," Harry said calmly.

"Well gosh, who do I have the pleasure of meeting today?"

"Mr. Black."

The Mayor froze, praying to God that the being across the desk wasn't here for him. "W . . . w . . . what brings you to our fine little town?" he stuttered. It wasn't often that one was confronted by the all consuming darkness, it wasn't ever if a being was lucky.

"I came here to set an example for today's youth," Harry said. "It's in the newest costume shop. In return, I'll consider waiting until after your ascension to kill you, and It's even possible that I'll make it relatively quick when I do."

"Your mercy is boundless," the Mayor said quickly, making a mental note to change a few plans.

"Unless of course you do something that warrants my attention," Harry added. "Now then, I'm sure you'd like to get to it, so I'll be on my way."

IIIIIIIIII

Giles took a few minutes to contemplate the boy's account of the previous night.

"Do you retain any memories or skills from your possession?" The Watcher asked.

"Memories?" The boy laughed. "I remember crossing the Rubicon with Caesar, jumping into Normandy, the endless mud of no man's land, and the charge down Little Round Top."

"I see." The Librarian turned to his other charge. "What about you, Willow?" He nearly dropped his glasses when he saw the odd contraption she was working on.

"Could you hand me that rubber band?" The girl in question asked.

IIIIIIIIII

Buffy smiled when she saw her boyfriend cautiously approach. The possession had removed none of the girl's fascination with the souled vampire, rather twisted it into something else.

"Buffy," Angel said nervously.

"Angel," she replied.

"Well . . ." Angel froze like a rat in front of a cobra when he saw the look in her eye. It was a look that said he was nothing more than a mystery she wished to unravel, a look he'd first seen the night before. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said quickly, backing out of the room as a trickle of fear urine made its way down his leg.

A scalpel appeared in the girl's hand as her grin deepened. "Angel, why don't we have a little discussion about your unique anatomy."

AN: Terrible, but I wanted to get something out for Halloween and this is it. Might have been better to leave off till next year and put out something of at least mediocre quality, who knows. Be sure to check out my profile. Follow the link and Bob's your uncle.

Polish by: incubusfox3

Typo by: wolf-in-hell


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